


Betrayal, amends, and Jack's bloody pheromones

by Humany_wumany_stuff



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Alternative Broken, Episode: s01e05 Small Worlds, Episode: s01e06 Countrycide, Episode: s01e07 Greeks Bearing Gifts, Episode: s01e08 They Keep Killing Suzie, I promise, M/M, Post-Episode: s01e04 Cyberwoman, Slow Build, but we'll get to Janto in the end, includes other episodes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-05-02 03:40:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 34,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14535843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Humany_wumany_stuff/pseuds/Humany_wumany_stuff
Summary: In the aftermath of Cyberwoman, Ianto and Jack struggle to redefine their working relationship.Alternative version of Broken (there might be references, possibly minor spoilers)





	1. Monday

**Author's Note:**

> I started this fic when I'd read about Broken, but before I actually listened to it.  
> After listening to it, I decided to finish it anyways.  
> This will be canon compliant except for Broken of course :)
> 
> This is my very first fic, so feedback is very welcome! I'd like to get better at writing fic.
> 
> (Also, on a side-note: this was originally supposed to be a short piece, but it got a 'little' out of hand)

Waking up to his alarm after the third night of twisting and turning, Ianto wondered why he still continued to use his alarm clock. He certainly did not need to get up at these ungodly hours anymore. There was nothing to get up for, no job to go to, no coffee to make, no empty pizza boxes to throw out, no reports to file, no exasperatingly clueless tourists to entertain. Not even a single reason to get dressed. On that note, he figured there was also no shame in turning over and dozed off again. He’d better make good use of his suspension. After two hours, however, his caffeine addiction got more powerful than the appeal of staying in bed all day.

Suspended or not, he could not lie in bed all day.

With a last glance at his wardrobe, Ianto decided there was no better time to forsake the formal wear than during his suspension. There would be no one to throw appreciative looks at his tailored suits anyway, not that he cared about those. As much as he had grown fond of wearing suits to work, there was a certain kind of freedom in walking around in pyjama bottoms all day. Absentmindedly Ianto stumbled towards his kitchen, when he was startled by the doorbell. After a quick glance at his clock, he wondered who would be at his door at 8 in the morning.

Perhaps it was someone from the team checking up on him, he thought with both hope and dread. As little as they had ever been interested in the office-boy cleaning up after them, he missed being part of a team like he had been in London. On the other hand, he had never felt at home in the Cardiff branch of Torchwood. On top of that, Ianto realised that the events of last Friday would not have been beneficial to any team spirit. Even Gwen’s mother-hen affliction couldn’t overcome the awkwardness that had resided in the Hub while he cleaned up one last time before being sent on suspension. She had just stared at him while he cleaned up Myfanwy’s barbecue sauce, her eyes full of worry and pity. The latter had hurt even more then the worrying.

Owen would never even have visited before the ordeal, let alone now. And Tosh, sweet and caring Tosh, had only glanced at him with a mixture of hurt and confusion. As much as he wanted to finally confide in her about everything that had been eating at him since his first day in the Hub, possibly over a glass of that Bordeaux she liked so much, he knew even Tosh would need time to forgive him. She had been the only one who ever asked him how his days went, if there had been any tourists, the only one who managed to throw out her own garbage instead of just leaving it on her desk, the only one who ever thanked him for coffee. She had been the only one who talked to him like a team member instead of a butler. But then again he had never been much of a talker towards her. He couldn’t trust anyone with his secret. Now the secret was out. And he still could not talk to anyone, because he didn’t have any friends.

Besides, the team would probably already be handling the newest toys the rift had provided over the weekend. He was not important enough to waste their precious time on. They had never cared before. Why would they start now? He could make everyone’s coffee exactly the way they each liked it, but no one would be able to guess how Ianto preferred his. Ianto idly wondered whether anyone would brave his coffee machine on their own. He hoped they would opt for take-out: much more expensive, but he couldn’t handle the thought of Owen handling his trusted side-kick while he was stuck in his flat on suspension.

It wasn’t until he opened the door that Ianto realised he was still wearing only pyjama bottoms. Usually he wouldn’t care much—at least he wasn’t in his Welsh Flag briefs like that time his neighbour had knocked on his door in the middle of the night because her cat had gone missing; meeting Mrs. Robinson in the hallway had never been the same—but the look in his visitor’s eyes made him question whether his trousers had suddenly vanished to leave him completely naked, because he had never felt more exposed to those scrutinising eyes and that suggestive grin.

Jack, the man he had wanted to see least of all, was standing in his hallway on a Monday morning, carrying take-out coffee and looking at Ianto as if he was the pile of presents under a Christmas tree. Clearing his throat, Ianto scraped up whatever courage he had left.

“I see you don’t need me for your daily dose of caffeine, sir?”

With any luck his choice of formal address would deflect Jack’s attention and hopefully stop him from undressing Ianto with his eyes. For heaven’s sake, he was barely wearing anything to begin with.

“The coffee is decent, but I think my eyes are going through withdrawal. The barista wasn’t wearing a suit.”

Clearly Jack was not aware of Ianto’s plan to divert his flirtatious thoughts.

“And neither are you apparently,” Jack continued, returning his roaming eyes to Ianto’s with his trademark smirk.

Leave it to Jack to point out the elephant in the room and make Ianto even more conscious of his lack of proper clothing. Jack’s typical flirty attitude certainly didn’t help to with Ianto’s confusion. He had never been shy about his body. He was still wearing trousers, wasn’t he? So why was he feeling so vulnerable? And why on earth was he thinking about his clothes—or lack thereof—in front of Jack Harkness?

“And here I thought Welshmen were hospitable,” he heard in that American, suggestive voice. He didn’t need to look up to know it was accompanied by a cheeky smile.

Cursing under his breath, Ianto reluctantly stepped aside. He hadn’t planned on talking to Jack this early in his suspension, but he also wasn’t going to let his personal issues with Jack raise his neighbours’ suspicions. A handsome man like Jack at his door would not exactly—

Ianto quickly shut off his line of thought. That was not the way he wanted to think about his boss, this early in the morning and especially after their confrontation.

“As much as I like your suits, I must admit I don’t mind your new style. Might be a bit distracting at work though.”

Jack’s leering tone was all too familiar to Ianto.

“I wouldn’t dare obstruct your working spirit, knowing how much effort it already costs me to get you to finish your paperwork on a normal day, sir,” Ianto promptly replied. It was clear Jack would not willingly give up the flirting, so going along with it, really was Ianto’s only option to get away from Jack for a second to get dressed. He had done it often enough to know how to deal with Jack Harkness. In the hope to put some distance between him and Jack, he quickly stepped into his bedroom to put on some clothes, but noticed Jack following him.

“Uhm, I was just about to put on some clothes. I wouldn’t want to distract you from whatever you came over for, sir,” Ianto managed to phrase as eloquently as possible. At least he wasn’t so flustered that he couldn’t still banter Jack under the table.

“That would be quite impossible, since I came over to see you, Ianto,” Jack said. His eyes were focused unwaveringly on Ianto’s.

“Oh, right, uhm, let me just…,” Ianto muttered, chiding himself for his obvious banter-defeat. Apparently, he would not be able to deflect Jack with his wit if he couldn’t even phrase grammatically complete sentences. He was not used to this kind of forthrightness from his boss, which only made him even more confused.

“What did you need to see me for, sir?” Ianto inquired after taking a breath to compose himself, picking up a shirt to keep his hands busy. “Especially considering I’m fairly certain I’m on suspension, which was your idea. You clearly have your coffee taken care of, your coat seems to be in pristine condition and I’m sure someone in the team can pick up a phone when it rings. You did have a working team before you hired me, right?”

Ianto had hoped to stay as civilised as possible, heeding the lesson his sister had taught him so long ago: the easiest way to annoy someone is to treat them as neutrally as possible. But Jack’s visit had stirred up his repressed anger and he had not been able to prevent the salty tone.

The corner of Jack’s mouth twitched just fast enough that anyone might have missed it, but Ianto was not anyone. He had gotten used to studying Jack’s facial expressions, even more so when he had learned Jack was not very forthcoming about his past, especially not in words. The real stories were in his eyes, a slight twitch of his lips, a few words muttered under his breath.

“You forgot the Tourist Office, it’s a vital part of your job description. We already had to send home three lovely ladies who came all this way to Cardiff for the view. And I don’t mean the tourist attractions if you know what I mean.”

Ianto couldn’t help but blush at Jack’s attempt to keep the conversation light and flirtatious. Jack had always had that effect on him. However, a voice in the back of his head reminded him of recent events and the anger he should be feeling instead. Starting to get a bit confused and consequently dangerously lightheaded, he decided to head back to the kitchen for some much-needed coffee. He put on the shirt he’d been awkwardly holding on to, hoping it smelled relatively clean.

Mentally shaking his head, he wondered once again about the direction his thoughts were heading. He should not be worrying about how he smelled, he was supposed to be on suspension. The tailored suits were his armour at work. At home, he could look and smell any way he wanted, boss visiting or not.

“I’m really not in the mood for chit-chat today, and definitely not your come-ons, considering you shot my girlfriend only three days ago. So just tell me: what did you really want, Jack?” Ianto sighed, turning around to face Jack, mentally willing him to finally be honest with him. Jack looked down to his feet, apparently at least understanding that flirting wasn’t a suitable approach to handling the situation at hand. That would be a first.

“I was worried about you, Ianto.”

That was definitely not the kind of honesty Ianto had expected. Sure, it was what he had wished for, but Ianto had learnt a long time ago that wishes were futile with Jack. Even at his most honest, Jack would always speak in riddles telling impossible stories, though Ianto was starting to believe even Jack couldn’t make some of those stories up. Still, Ianto was not one to show his surprise and held his chin high. Just because Jack had decided to drive the SUV half a mile from the Hub and knock on his door, did not mean that he suddenly cared about him.

Jack had made it abundantly clear that Ianto was not wanted at _his_ Torchwood, that Ianto’s past at the London branch was anything but an impressive recommendation, and that was all before the whole fiasco on Friday. Ianto did not expect his boss to check up on his feelings after finding out he’d been lying to the team since his very first day. Actually, he’d even lied before he was hired.

The only possible explanation was that Jack was keeping an eye on him. Hoping he could be subtle about it, Ianto slowly turned around and took a look at his living room, especially the places he would think to hide cameras. Only now it occurred to him how weird it was that he hadn’t noticed anyone tailing him during his visits to the pub over the weekend.

He did, after all, cause two civilian deaths and above all, threatened to kill his boss. His breath sped up a little when he realised Jack might have changed his mind about the suspension after all. Maybe UNIT caught wind of the ordeal and pressured Jack into executing him. Even though he wasn’t sure yet whether he would put up a fight or take his sentence in stride, Ianto once more turned to face Jack, though he could not meet his eyes.

“I don’t have any more girlfriends stashed away in a basement, sir. You can check my flat if you want. Technically, you do what you want, don’t you? You are Torchwood after all. ‘Outside the government, beyond the police.’ I am fully aware I have no rights to appeal to. Just like I know that when employees threaten their colleagues, let alone their boss, they do not get suspended. One week, _sir_? Really?”

Feeling the rage building up inside him once again, Ianto felt more confident by the second and took a few steps closer, looking his boss straight in the eyes.

“Britain may have officially abolished the death sentence, but Torchwood hasn’t. You promised you would execute me if I didn’t kill her, so why don’t you make good on that promise? Didn’t you say that when you make a threat like that, you’d better be prepared to follow it through? So, what are you going to do? Can you follow it through?”

With swift movements he learned a lifetime ago in London, Ianto grabbed Jack’s Webley from its holster and shoved it in his boss’s hands, pointing it at his own forehead.

“Don’t keep me waiting, sir,” Ianto said quietly, but with deadly conviction. The implication was clear enough. Proudly, he noted that his hands nor his voice showed any sign of the trembling fear rushing through his mind. Jack, however, was noticeably shaking, though Ianto could not tell whether it was in fear or in anger.

Maybe it could finally be over. The pain, the emptiness: it would all be gone with one twitch of a finger.

With both of Ianto’s hands still around the gun, Jack slowly lowered it and put his free hand on top of Ianto’s. He spoke in a slow but steady pace, excruciatingly soft words in a low and soothing tone.

“I was wrong to send you back into the Hub. Yes, I was angry at you, I was furious. And I let my emotions get the better of me. Any decent Captain would have known better than to send a traumatised soldier back into the field. The truth is: I don’t know if I would have been able to shoot you then, I guess we’ll never know, but I am definitely not going to _execute_ you now.” Jack spit out the word as if executions were some medieval torture method and not still common practice in this time and day. “Because you were right, I didn’t notice you before. I saw a handsome Welshman in a well-fitting suit—no I’m not flirting, I’m just stating facts. Besides, looking back, I’m fairly certain you deliberately flirted your way into your current job.”

Ianto scowled, somewhat embarrassed to admit his tactics. He hadn’t planned on it, originally. He had hoped the Weevil rescue would have been enough to persuade Jack of his abilities. It was not his fault that apparently Jack didn’t like the London branch and was so damn distrustful. But Captain Jack Harkness had sported quite the reputation at Torchwood London and Ianto had been desperate to get into the Hub, so he had spared no effort. It was not the first time he’d taken advantage of a little wink here, a well-placed smile there. He had not been aware of Jack’s suit-fetish, but it had turned out to prove useful to keep a low profile in the Hub since Jack was apparently easily distracted by tightly fitted trousers.

“I took you for granted,” Jack continued, shaking Ianto from his trip down memory lane. “We all did. You cleaned up our shit, organised our mess of a workplace and turned it into a well-oiled machine, kept everyone going with the best coffee in the whole damn galaxy. Hell, I didn’t even know coffee _could_ taste like that. We may not have let you know— Sorry, I promised myself I wouldn’t lie to you today: we simply didn’t realise just how important you are to the team. We didn’t appreciate you enough, because we never noticed. You did your job, regularly took over some of your teammates’, even some of my mine. And then some. And you did it all without a single complaint. Now I know you were keeping a low profile, but _I_ should have paid more attention.”

Jack took a step closer until Ianto could actually feel the narrowing space in between their bodies. He had never been so aware of how much his chest moved when he breathed. Every breath, his shirt threatened to brush against Jack’s and, trifling as it should have been, to Ianto it felt ominously similar to a nuclear reaction. Or at least it was how he imagined a nuclear reaction to feel like. Jack’s hand was still on Ianto’s and for some reason, Ianto could not pull away. He could only try to keep his breathing as shallow as possible and hold onto his composure, because admitting that the proximity to his boss was getting to him in such a loaded manner, would be too humiliating and definitely too confusing for him to handle in that moment.

“What you did was wrong, yes, it was a betrayal. But you underestimate how willing I can be to forgive.”

Thoughts became hazier by the second. Could he really be let off the hook so easily? He’d been wary when Jack had told him he’d be sent on suspension for a week following the weekend. Having spent two years in London where the rules were apparently much stricter, Ianto had not been able to believe his ears. He still did not quite know what to believe. And Jack’s proximity was not exactly helping to clear his light-headedness. Nor did the low voice that seemed to resonate in his entire body. Even with his eyes fixed firmly on the floor, he could feel Jack’s gaze burning into him.

“I have seen many strong soldiers fall after the loss of their loved ones,” Jack continued, “and none of them had faced the horrors you encountered at Canary Wharf. But I need you to understand, that it was that Battle of Canary Wharf, where you lost her.”

Suddenly the fog of Jack’s closeness and his enticing aftershave—or maybe they really were pheromones, Ianto wouldn’t put it past him—cleared at the mention of Lisa.

“ _Lisa_. She had a name. And I didn’t _lose_ Lisa,” Ianto spat. “Phones, keys, pens, there are a lot of things you can lose. I recently lost one of my favourite ties. But I didn’t lose Lisa. You took her from me!”

He had almost believed that Jack truly regretted his actions and had come to make amends, but he was only here to soothe his own conscience. And like the fool he was, instead of kicking him out, he had basically been swooning in the arms of his boss, the man who shot his girlfriend in cold blood.

“You didn’t even try to save her, not for one second! You like to think that you’re saving this world, that you’re ridding it of monsters, but what about you? Who gave you the right to decide who’s the monster and who’s worth saving? She was not a monster, she was the kindest person I have ever met. Fierce, smart, ambitious, brave, but above all, she was kind. Do you even know what that means? To be kind? It means that she would always be there for anyone who needed it, always lend a helping hand, a shoulder to cry on, a listening ear, a soothing voice speaking of hope and dreams. No matter what she needed, she would always put another first. She was strong, powerful, decisive, but she could be so soft and tender. She would always fight for anyone in need, even if it killed her, and in the end, I suppose it did. She shouldn’t even have been there, at Canary Wharf. She made it out, did you know that? No, of course you didn’t. She made it out, unharmed, and then she went back in because that’s who she was. That’s the woman you killed!”

Ianto realised he was now yelling at his boss, his superior, but he didn’t care anymore. The stunned look on Jack’s face was strangely satisfying. Being able to finally speak his mind felt so liberating, that he wouldn’t have stopped if it weren’t for Jack placing his hand on Ianto’s shoulder.

“Then tell me,” Jack spoke softly, “tell me how I should have saved her.”

Ianto fell silent, but his anger was still raging on the inside. Everything he had managed to shut out all weekend, had started to flood in at the mention of Lisa: anger, grief, resentment, blame, rage, pain, the crushing emptiness in his stomach, the anxiety clogging up his throat, his head spinning, reeling, blurring his sight, his ears ringing. Breathing heavily, Ianto collapsed on the floor. Immediately he felt Jack’s presence, trying to comfort him. But all Ianto could think of were Lisa’s screams when Myfanwy had plummeted into his girlfriend and suddenly Jack’s touch did not feel innocently flirtatious as usual, not even that strangely dizzying sensation he sometimes got when Jack would stand a little closer than expected. This time the hand on his shoulder felt like a white-hot fire singing his skin, burning in disgust and guilt at the same time.

“Don’t touch me,” Ianto growled, causing Jack to promptly draw back his hand with a guilty look in his eyes.

“It’s too soon, I understand,” Jack said, again in that unnervingly slow and gentle voice that didn’t match how Ianto wanted to feel about the man at that moment, “but I couldn’t leave you alone after—“

Jack’s voice faltered as he seemed to realise his mistake.

“After I drank myself to oblivion in the pub all weekend? Don’t bother hiding your surveillance. After all, if it had been anyone else on the team, I would have been the one tasked to spy on them, like I did with Gwen after you Retconned her. I know the protocols, Jack. I know everything.”

Ianto enjoyed Jack’s reaction to being caught in his little games, like a kid caught with his hands in the cookie-jar. Everyone on the team liked to act all mysterious, but Jack especially relished in his secret operative behaviour. It didn’t matter that Ianto had not been paying attention to anyone in the pub, because he knew Tosh had probably followed his every move through the CCTV.

“Why does it matter to you? If you were scared I’d spill anything about Torchwood, you should have Retconned me. Actually, according to Torchwood law, you should have executed me. But you know I can keep quiet, because keeping secrets is what got us here, isn’t it? I guess you were right when you didn’t trust an ex-agent from Torchwood London.”

“I thought you were only a Junior Researcher?” Jack asked curiously, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. With a pointed look and a raised eyebrow, Ianto told Jack everything he needed to know.

“Of course you altered your file,” Jack sighed. “You still manage to surprise me, Ianto Jones. Always prepared, always a dozen other tricks up your sleeve and there’s no one who notices.”

The salty tone in Jack’s voice was unmistakable and Ianto did not like how much that stung. Why did he care about what Jack thought of him? With a deep sigh, he made a point of looking anywhere but at Jack, hoping he would get the hint. Luckily, he didn’t have to wait long.

“I guess I’ve already overstayed my welcome for the day, haven’t I?” Jack asked light-heartedly, failing to remove the tension in the flat, even though Ianto silently applauded his attempt as it did mean Jack would hopefully leave him alone.

At a loss for more words his boss left for the door, his shoulders slacking on his way out.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Ianto Jones.” Jack turned around and continued, “Would you mind making the coffee though? Because I was lying earlier: that coffee was rubbish.”

Ianto looked up at Jack to see the man grinning as if they were back to their normal back-and-forth flirtatious banter of the past. “I don’t understand, sir, are you asking me to come back already?” Ianto asked tentatively, hoping desperately he had misunderstood. He was not ready to return to the Hub. To be honest, he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to go back there.

“No, as I told you the first time: you are on suspension for a week. Get yourself together and let the rest of the team do the same. But despite what you may think of me, I do care about you, Ianto. And even though I may not have shown it enough in the past, I am here for you. That is why I came here and why I will be here tomorrow again, and the day after that, whether you like it or not. And you had better be here, because you were right about us tracking your movements and you are absolutely right about us not trusting you yet.”

With those last words, Jack looked him in the eye for a little longer, before turning around, his coat whirling around as he did.

That coat really added more flair to everything, Ianto thought, as he watched his boss leave his flat, already dreading the next morning.


	2. Tuesday

Jack walked into the bakery and immediately regretted being this late. The line was so long that he couldn’t close the door without stumbling against the last man in line. Usually he wouldn’t mind getting up close in someone’s personal space, but he could tell the man in front of him had not had his first cup of coffee either. He’d learnt the hard way that 21st-century people were considerably more irritable when caffeine-deprived.

He used to make jokes about it, but today he found out Ianto really did get them everywhere on time. It wasn’t until that morning that Jack had noticed his watch was running behind. He hadn’t needed it for a while now since he’d relied on Ianto’s impeccable sense of time. And then he’d realised he had no idea where to find a watchmaker in this era. Only a decade or two ago, he would have found one in Cardiff within 5 minutes, but who still cared about old-fashioned analogue wristwatches these days? In the current times, people just threw out faulty appliances and bought new ones. It would take humanity a little while longer to take a hard look at their habits and their influence on the planet. Jack, however, did not like to dispose of equipment that easily, preferring to tinker away as far as his capacities allowed him. Timepieces were beyond even his advanced technical talents, though. Well okay, he could do it in theory, but he never had the patience for such detailed work. Watchmakers had been a revered group of intellectuals for good reason. It was a pity the profession had lost its usefulness with the invention of digital watches. Ianto would know where to find one. Yet another reason why he missed the Welshman.

Over the weekend, he’d had a lot of time to think about what happened and where everything went wrong. In the heat of the moment it had been easy to blame Ianto, but once his anger and fear had faded, he’d come to realise his own part in the disaster. Clearly Ianto had not felt comfortable asking Jack for help and Jack had only himself to blame for that. Jack cringed when he remembered the way he had treated Ianto in sending him back to kill his own girlfriend. Well, it wasn’t really his girlfriend, but Jack should have been more aware of how it looked to Ianto. Even when Tosh had called him out for it, he had not been willing to see that he was wrong.

And two civilians had paid the price for it.

But so did Ianto. The guilt had been obvious in his eyes.

When he’d gone to visit Ianto yesterday, he hadn’t really figured out yet why he was going there. He’d told himself that it was just due diligence. Ianto had been right about the surveillance and Jack had been worried.

But the moment he’d laid eyes on the way Ianto looked, dishevelled and just utterly lost, he’d made it his personal mission to get Ianto back on his feet. He was supposed to be Ianto’s boss, he was supposed to look after him. He’d failed once, he would not fail again.

Gradually, the queue shortened and as he got eyes on the counter, he began to panic. Jack had no idea what kind of pastries Ianto liked. Every day, Ianto somehow knew what kind of food the team needed. Chinese to get them through the long nights, pizza to cheer them up on tough cases, burgers when Owen was having one of his particularly grumpy days. Sometimes, Ianto would show up in his office with a plate of his favourite apple pie, somehow always on the days he needed it the most. It was the man’s superpower, just like his coffee.

But he had no idea what Ianto liked. He could be a vegetarian for all he knew. No, he definitely ate meat, he always ate the same things he brought for the team. Probably not allergic to anything then. But he’d never seen Ianto eat pastries. Come to think of it, he’d never seen Ianto eat anything sweet. Maybe he didn’t like pastries at all. Panic flooded his mind as it was suddenly his turn and the lady at the counter looked at him expectantly. Not wanting to clog up the line that had already formed up behind him, Jack blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

Back in his car, Jack pondered over what to say on his visit. Ianto had been right, this was not usual procedure in Torchwood. He probably shouldn’t be rewarding disobedience with pastry delicacies either. Then again, he’d set out to change the rules of Torchwood when he took over as leader. And if he were honest with himself, he’d have to admit that he admired Ianto’s dedication and loyalty to his girlfriend. The fact alone that he’d managed to smuggle not only a cyberman, but also the necessary equipment into the Hub without his knowledge, baffled him. But on top of that, Jack couldn’t help but admire Ianto’s resilience. After seeing what the cybermen did to his home-office in London, he had risked a repeat situation out of love for his girlfriend. At first, he had thought it stupid—as a matter of fact, he still did—but at the same time there was something admirable about facing what must have been Ianto’s worst fear. If only he could get the man to show that kind of loyalty to his Torchwood.

The car ride towards Ianto’s flat was much too short to Jack’s liking. Not really sure how to handle another encounter after the day before ended so badly, he was quite nervous, almost like those people in romantic movies on their first date. Well, he wouldn’t mind a night out with this gorgeous Welshman, he thought with a smile. He’d always felt like there was a certain chemistry between the two of them, ever since the first time they met in the woods. He should have known then that Jones, Ianto Jones was much more than a coffee-boy or glorified butler. Jack knew he’d let himself be distracted by a pretty face in a well-fitting suit. There’s a mistake he wouldn’t make twice. It probably shouldn’t have stung as much as it did, to know that the Welshman’s flirting was only for show to get into Torchwood.

Jack reminisced back to Ianto’s attempts to get into Torchwood. The moment he’d found out Jones had a background in Torchwood London, every alarm bell had gone off. The London branch had fallen for a reason: they were wrong on every level. Ignorance and arrogance were never a good combination. Throw in some alien influence that was completely out of their control and it was no surprise they hadn’t been able handle it.

But as pretentious as the London office had behaved, they had always been small-minded when it came to what really mattered. Having been in Torchwood as long as Jack had, he knew like no other what the real purpose of Torchwood had been: to catch the Doctor. It had always appalled him to see how the Doctor was vilified in the documents, how every new trainee was indoctrinated against the most compassionate man Jack had ever met. In his lengthy life, he’d met a lot of people and no one had come even close to the Doctor.

Despite the Welshman’s past in London, Jack had chosen to give him a chance after his impressive demonstration with the Pterodactyl. Though, in all honesty, it might have had more to do with the intimacy that followed after than the catch of the prehistoric creature itself. Shaking his head, Jack wondered what it was about that Welshman that had got him so flustered back in that warehouse. He wasn’t exactly a stranger to intimate contact. Hell, he’d arranged a few ‘coincidental’ tumblings to flirt his way out of precarious situations himself. But there had been a spark between them, a curiosity that Jack couldn’t explain.

Up to that moment, anyone involved in Torchwood had either stumbled in or was vetted thoroughly. No one had ever just knocked on their proverbial door and asked for a job. The resilience that he’d shown, back then already, had prompted some admiration in Jack, perhaps even pride. To think that someone would ask to work for him, for his Torchwood, had got to his head and spurred him to go against his primary instinct.

He knew that the team thought he’d let himself be distracted by Ianto’s good looks and fitted suits. In truth, he did appreciate what he saw, but it had been only an added bonus. Jack met gorgeous people all the time, but he only hired the most qualified, only those he knew could handle the worst, only those he knew he could trust. So why did he put so much effort in this renegade, he wondered? Yes, he was very skilled. Yes, he was unmatched in his resilience and resolve in the most unimaginable situations. But could he still trust him? He had basically told Jack not to trust him. Jones had sworn to let him suffer and die at the very first chance he’d get. Yet those were not the words that keep haunting his mind.

“You’re worse than anything locked up down there.” The words still reverberated through his head.

Sometimes he agreed. Sometimes he wished he could retcon himself. Sometimes he wished he could execute himself.

Maybe that was why he felt the need to change Ianto’s mind.

Because he needed to believe that Ianto was wrong about him. He just had to figure out how.

Once the car was put in park, there was no reason left to stall. He knew Ianto could see the car from his window and the last thing he needed was for Ianto to know just how nervous he was. If he wanted any chance at getting close to the Welshman, he’d have to go in from a position of strength. He was the boss after all.

❖

He could already smell the coffee from the door-opening and the flat was noticeably tidier than the day before. It was clear that this time Ianto was more prepared for Jack’s visit, wearing a simple blue shirt and dark grey trousers. Just the tie and jacket were missing to see his familiar assistant in his ever pristine suit. Even without the full suit however, Ianto felt closed off again, holding his composure remarkably more steadily than yesterday. It would take more finesse to break through the Welshman’s walls today.

“Are you throwing a party for the whole building, sir?”

Ianto’s once again professional tone pulled Jack from his wandering thoughts. He stared into Ianto’s questioning eyes, wondering what the man was talking about.

“Even Owen wouldn’t be able to eat all of that,” Ianto elaborated, glancing down at Jack’s hands.

“Oh, right. Well, I didn’t know what you liked,” Jack mumbled sheepishly, “so I got one of everything.” He was embarrassed and afraid he’d gone over the top in his attempt to make up for his past neglect, but when he looked up to see Ianto’s reaction, he was glad to see an amused grin staring back at him.

“And don’t ever challenge Owen to something like that. He might actually try it,” Jack teased, happy to see Ianto smile, even if it was barely a twitch of the lips. At least it didn’t look like Ianto thought him a fool for buying so many pastries. Well, maybe he still thought so, but he didn’t look at Jack like he wanted to kill him. That was a pretty good start.

“Is that coffee I smell? I must say, I miss your coffee. Tosh makes it reasonably well, but Owen is a downright natural disaster at it. And Gwen can’t even get the machine working.”

Jack knew it was probably obvious how nervous he was, but he couldn’t bear the silence and tension between them. He had hoped the idle small-talk would prompt Ianto into some kind of sarcastic quip, like he sometimes used to do, but he had no such luck. Not sure whether the man was uncomfortable, or just angry with him, the quiet demeanour didn’t exactly settle his nerves.

After what seemed like an eternity, Ianto stepped away from the door towards the kitchen, apparently expecting Jack to follow him. Closing the door behind him, Jack took in his surroundings more carefully. He couldn’t immediately place a finger on what exactly had changed, but it seemed like the flat had been tidied up since yesterday. It certainly had not appeared cluttered the day before, but somehow the flat felt even more impersonal today. One by one, small details caught Jack’s eye. The newspaper on the coffee-table was folded too perfectly, the cushions on the couch too fluffed, every chair around the table almost impossibly evenly spaced.

Either his employee had a serious case of OCD that he had never noticed before, or Ianto was at least as nervous as Jack was.

Turning around, Jack was startled to see Ianto standing right in front of him, holding a mug that smelled of that heavenly coffee he had grown accustomed to since the Welshman had started to work at the Hub. Ianto’s ability to move around soundlessly was clearly not limited to the Hub. Retrospectively, that skill should have tipped him off. Still, Jack gratefully accepted the mug, having been forced to drink mediocre to straight up horrible coffee since last Friday. He couldn’t suppress a moan of contentment at his first sip even if he had wanted to, which clearly amused Ianto judging by the smug grin on his face as he once again turned towards the kitchen table.

During Jack’s assessment of the flat, Ianto had put plates on the counter and put a few of the pastries on them. Jack’s eye immediately caught a piece of apple pie, already cut and put aside for him. The guilt he’d felt at the bakery made a startling return, seeing how Ianto did know exactly what Jack’s favourite pastry was and on top of that still acted like the unappreciated servant role he’d been playing in the Hub for weeks. The pit in his stomach didn’t inhibit his appetite though, and Jack happily dug into his pie. Meanwhile, Ianto kept a wary eye on Jack, with a look about him that Jack couldn’t place.

“What exactly do you hope to accomplish here, Jack?”

Ianto’s question should not have surprised him, but he’d hoped to have a bit more time before getting to the heavy stuff. He’d hoped for a bit more time to figure out what exactly he wanted in the first place.

“I wanted to talk to you about coming back to work,” stumbled out of Jack’s mouth before he realised it.

Well, that was not exactly what he’d had in mind driving up to Ianto’s flat, but being here, in front of Ianto, had only made it more obvious that Jack had already forgiven him.

Even though they hadn’t paid attention to him appropriately, somehow Ianto had slowly become part of the team. Jack hadn’t realised it until he’d started to notice the palpable absence of their favourite Welshman. And it wasn’t just the coffee they’d had to make themselves. Somehow, in the few days they’d spent without Ianto, everything that could have gone wrong, had done exactly that. No one could find anything in the archives, the tourist office had developed a leak, Myfanwy’d had a breakdown and tried to attack Owen—to be honest, that had secretly been the best part of Jack’s day—for seemingly no reason, they’d had two power outages and on top of that, Unit had called for an urgent meeting. Okay, technically, Unit’s meeting had nothing to do with Ianto whatsoever, but it hadn’t exactly made his day any better.

But most of all, it was eerily quiet in the Hub. Jack could not figure out why it felt quieter than before because Ianto barely said anything. There was just something missing, _someone_ missing. And they could all feel it.

“I thought you said I’d have to stay away for at least a week, sir.”

Jack noted a hint of uncertainty in Ianto’s question. Maybe Ianto wasn’t ready to return. That was not something Jack had thought of.

“Yes, I did. But I think we should talk about it, so we know what to expect. And it might do you good to have some certainties to hang on to.”

That last statement got him a particularly sceptical look.

“Certainties? I’m pretty sure Torchwood has never had any of those. I learned that the hard way back in London,” Ianto deadpanned.

“So why did you come to us then? Was it only for her?” Jack asked, desperate to get some kind of reaction from Ianto, to open up a conversation that would actually move them forward instead of circling around the issue of Ianto’s dead girlfriend. “Because I don’t believe that. I know you probably think she was the only reason why you came to us. Maybe it was at first. But you’re one of us now. You are Torchwood. Once you’re in, you never leave. And that has nothing to do with our secrecy policies. Once you know what we know, there’s no way back to a regular life.”

“Yes, there is,” Ianto replied, as if stating the obvious, “it’s called Retcon.”

There wasn’t much to say against such pragmatic logic. But it was not what Jack had wanted to hear.

“You would forget Lisa too,” Jack prompted tentatively. “If you take away Torchwood, it will be like you never met her.”

“Don’t you dare use her to manipulate me.”

The vehemence behind Ianto’s words took Jack by surprise. Yes, he’d seen this side of his usually unflappable employee, a first time in the Hub last Friday, another time in this very flat only the day before. But somehow Jack could not get past the image he had formed of Ianto. A part of Jack relied on his quiet demeanour, the way he moved through the Hub without being noticed, like he was part of the infrastructure. Jack had come to like having a shadow in the Hub that appeared only when needed. It was a simple form of reassurance in the hustle that was Torchwood day in, day out.

But the man in front of him today wasn’t anything like the assistant he’d come to rely on.

“Don’t you think you’ve done enough?” Ianto asked.

The man was still staring furiously at Jack and all Jack could do in response was stand in awe of Ianto’s passionate resolve. There was little he wouldn’t give to be the cause of such passion, such complete devotion. He’d loved people before, passionately too, but none of his relationships lasted long enough to get to this level of utter devotion. Usually he bolted before he got too invested, too afraid of losing them when they would inevitably die. Once or twice he had actually wanted to lose himself in his lovers, but they hadn’t been ready to commit to an immortal time traveller from the future.

It had been a while since he’d taken the leap to reveal his secret to a lover. It wasn’t like it ever ended well anyway. He couldn’t expect anyone else to face his immortality when he himself could barely handle it. Only difference was, he had no choice in the matter. And the passion in Ianto’s eyes whenever Lisa entered the conversation, made Jack’s loneliness sting all the more. He didn’t know what to say to a man who loved so deeply, so devoutly, when he himself longed to do just the same but couldn’t.

“Maybe it is better to forget her. To just forget everything,” Ianto continued weakly. The sudden lack of fervour behind his words alarmed Jack. “What I don’t know, can’t hurt me after all. And right now, no pain sounds pretty damn nice to me. Just… to not feel anything, just for once…”

“Ianto,” Jack urged, his fear over Ianto’s wellbeing growing by the second, “I know it hurts, but—”

“What the bloody hell do you know?” Ianto spat.

“More than you might think,” Jack mumbled grudgingly. “I know you think I’m a monster, but I have loved and lost people too. The fact that I’m all alone should tell you a thing or two about the losses in my life. No family, no lovers, no one.” Thinking back to his home, Jack almost couldn’t cover up a deep and longing sigh. “Not anymore at least,” Jack added, lost in thought and memories he’d thought were hidden further away. The faces of Alice and Steven popped into his head, but then again, they left too, didn’t they?

“Why would you even want me back? I betrayed you, I betrayed the whole team. I got two people, two civilians killed. I threatened to kill you. Why the hell would you want me back?”

Jack tried to focus on the purpose that lead him to Ianto’s flat in the first place instead of the haunted memories. He cared about Ianto and he would not neglect to show it again.

“Despite the obvious reasons,” Jack joked, looking pointedly at the almost empty coffee mugs left on the kitchen counter, “why wouldn’t we want you back?”

“You always go on and on about trust and being able to rely on each other. Can you honestly tell me that you will ever trust me again? Do you honestly believe that Owen or Tosh or Gwen will trust me?”

“I don’t condemn people that easily. We both know Owen has given me enough reason to doubt his reliability. But I know what kind of person he is, I know what drives him. And that tells me enough to know I can trust him. I trust Owen to be by my side when I need him.”

Ianto still didn’t look persuaded, ready to counter Jack’s arguments, so he pressed a little further.

“Yes, what you did was much worse than anything Owen has every pulled, but that doesn’t change who you are. What you did was wrong and the reasons behind it were even more wrong, even if you don’t see that yet. But though they were wrong, your intent was also noble and it showed who you are. It takes a special kind of man to face a danger like cybermen willingly, even if it was to save the woman you loved. Especially because you know, better than anyone else, just how dangerous they are. At first, I thought it meant you were delusional. But I know that’s not the case. You were smart enough to con your way into my team. And even though I didn’t fully appreciate you, I still saw your potential. And now I would like to see what more you can do.”

“You didn’t answer my question, sir,” Ianto said. His piercing blue eyes seemed just as furious as Ianto had been before, but Jack could tell that his speech had somewhat fazed Ianto, maybe even persuaded him a little.

“Can you tell me right now,” Ianto continued, “that you will ever trust me again? That you will ever be able to truly forgive me?”

Jack smiled and took a step forward. “Do you think I would be here if I hadn’t already forgiven you, Ianto?”

The sigh leaving Ianto’s lips told Jack everything he needed to know.

“As for the trust, I will be honest with you. Trust never comes easily with me. But I also prefer to believe that people deserve a second chance,” Jack continued. “I once betrayed a man. A very, very good man. Knowing him, he might just have invented kindness itself. It wouldn’t surprise me. I was a con-man when I met him. A very good con-man. Not a good man though. So I conned him, took advantage of his faith in humanity, his desire to see the good in people. And I messed up. Big time. It almost cost so many lives.”

Jack had to assemble all his courage and restraint to keep going. It was too easy to get lost in memories of the Doctor and Rose, the days when everything was so much easier, so much simpler. Those memories were all that got him through the day sometimes, even though they were always tainted. Tainted by the moment that changed him forever. But he did not have time to lose himself right now. He had to see this through, no matter what he had to relive to do it.

“He saved them. He saved the innocent victims I caused. He saved me. And then he forgave me. I still don’t fully understand how or why, but I like to think it’s because he saw who I could be instead of who I had been before.“

“And you think you know who I can be, do you?” Ianto asked, the sarcasm practically dripping off his lips.

“No,” Jack smiled, “but I’d like to find out. Because up to now you’ve been the kind of man who runs into a burning building full of cybermen to save the person you love. You’ve been the kind of man who never gives up on the people you love, no matter how badly the odds were against you. That is exactly the kind of people I hire. The kind of people I trust.”

In that moment, Jack wanted nothing more than to grab Ianto’s hand and pull him into a hug. But Jack could tell by Ianto’s stiff posture that the man needed some time and space to mull over Jack’s words. Sometimes forgiveness was harder to accept than it was to give.

“What if you’re wrong about me?”

Ianto’s question was one that he’d expected, but Jack hadn’t yet come up with a proper response. With a deep sigh, Jack emptied his coffee before looking up at Ianto again, trying to come up with a perfect answer. But that was just the problem: he wasn’t perfect.

Or maybe that was the answer all along.

“What if I mess up tomorrow?” Jack asked in retort. “Or Owen? Or Tosh? Or Gwen? None of us are perfect, me least of all. We all make mistakes, Ianto. It’s the reasons why we make them that matter. All you did, you did out of love. And love is never wrong. It is never foolish. Love is always brave, always wise. Love is worth fighting for. You reminded me of that. You reminded me of why we do what we do.”

There seemed to be nothing Ianto had to counter as he sat down on his barstool, shoulders sagging with a weight clearly lifted. Jack, however, had not forgotten Ianto’s outburst and the suicidal warning bells that were still ringing in his ears.

“Would you think about it? I don’t need an answer right away. I just—” Jack paused, trying to find the right words to phrase it as delicately as possible, “I just hope you’ll reconsider your value and contributions to the team. You are more than a coffee-boy, Ianto. Always were. I entrusted you with confidential information, like the codes to my safe. It wasn’t out of laziness, like you may think. I trusted you.”

His use of the past tense slipped off the tongue before he could stop it. He could tell Ianto had noticed it too, which seemed to have hurt the man more than Jack expected.

“I trusted you enough to know that there is still enough left to build upon,” Jack sighed. His slip-up could have ruined everything, yet something told Jack that he’d tipped the scales by opening up about his own past. It takes trust to receive trust, after all.

“Thank you for the pastries,” Ianto replied politely, “I’m sure my neighbours will enjoy them too. And tomorrow. And the day after. You might have brought enough to feed the whole building for a week.” A shy smile appeared as he seemed to contemplate on Jack’s request.

“I’ll think about it,” he eventually continued with a sigh.

Jack hadn’t noticed he’d been holding his breath but smiled with relief as he closed Ianto’s door behind him.

❖

For a top-secret organisation, his team was absolute rubbish at pretending to look normal. That did make it easier to read them, though Jack wished it had applied to Ianto as well. Judging by how obviously they were ignoring his entrance despite the blaring alarm accompanying the cog door, they’d been discussing his visits behind his back. The short walk towards his office always gave him the advantage to pass by everyone’s station and the little glances that were passed around when they thought he wasn’t looking, sure were quite amusing. A pang of guilt hit him when he once again realised his past neglect: Ianto had never been on his route.

Today, however, he did not like what those exchanged glances looked like, not when he was already quietly planning Ianto’s return.

“Alright kids, boardroom in five minutes, then we can all hear those snappy opinions you think you’re keeping so well from me.”

Once in his office, Jack dropped the confident act, sagged down in his chair, and let his eyes roam towards the liquor cabinet he barely touched. He never drank on the job. Not anymore. Since the captain of Torchwood was always on the job, that meant he hadn’t had a drink in quite a while. But somehow, he’d developed a renewed desire for the burn of brandy in the past few days. The recent lack of heavenly coffee might have had something to do with that. But as much as he wanted to take the edge of the emotional start of his day, Jack knew the worst might have yet to come.

In order to face the elephant in the Hub, he would need to have his wits about him. It was never easy to walk the fine line between keeping the team close and trusting like a family, and retaining his authoritative position as the team’s leader. That was precisely the reason why he preferred to keep the team small: he liked to be able to keep an eye on everyone, to know what was going on in their heads, in their lives. He had been the rogue soldier enough times to know how easily armies fall when they get to big to oversee, whereas a team that trusts each other like a family, always pulls through. Still, he had let Ianto slip through his fingers and that had been his fault.

If only he had paid more attention to the man, been more invested in his personal life, everything could have turned out differently. Of all the questions that had been racing through Jack’s head since last Friday, there was one in particular that kept him up at night. Had Ianto asked for help, what would he have done?

It was easier to blame Ianto for keeping his secret, for bringing an alien threat into the Hub and endangering the entire team, hell, the entire world. But there was a little nagging voice in Jack’s head that couldn’t help but admit that it had been his fault that Ianto hadn’t been able to confide in him. He had never given the man any reason to confide in him, not like he’d done with the rest of the team.

Of course, part of the reason why he’d neglected to build a relationship of trust with Ianto had been his peculiar recruitment. Tosh, Owen and Gwen had all been thoroughly vetted before recruiting them into the team. It had been Jack’s choice to reel them in. Even with Gwen, who had stumbled upon Torchwood without Jack’s intent, Jack had made sure to build a personal relationship that would enable him to trust her beyond doubt. Gwen may think she worked her way into Torchwood, but Jack could have easily turned her down, had he wanted to. There had been something about the woman that made him question his own actions, his intentions, just like the Doctor and Rose had done so long ago.

It would also be easy to blame his recent distraction with the extraordinary Welsh woman for his neglect, but even that wouldn’t make up for the time before he’d even laid eyes on Gwen.

No, it had all been his fault and he should not be making excuses. He had been the one to take Ianto for granted. He had seen a pretty face in a nice suit, offering to be anything they had needed and he had taken advantage of it. It had just been so convenient. Too convenient. If he had been a decent leader, he would have made sure to get to know Ianto, to actually care about the man. But it had been easier to let Ianto do what he did so well: to take care of anything they needed without a single complaint.

Jack had grown careless: not just in the sense that he had let his guard down, but he had also grown cold. He had turned into Yvonne Hartman, thinking of his people as pawns, as parts of a machine. Just because the machine worked so well, didn’t give him leisure to treat them as such. Jack blamed himself for not seeing the threat that had been under his nose, but more than that, he blamed himself for becoming the kind of leader he used to despise working for.

And now there were three people waiting for him, each with opinions of their own, private lives of their own. He would not make the same mistake twice. He did not want be like the heartless bosses he’d worked for in the past. Torchwood, or at least Jack’s Torchwood, was different. It had to be. They were a family, and he was going to listen to each and every single one of them. He’d sent Ianto on suspension for a week. Ianto had been correct in stating that the punishment was probably too light, but Jack had to admit they could not run without him for much longer than that.

On the one hand, he was already missing Ianto, but on the other hand, he knew that the team wasn’t ready for him to come back. He could tell that they missed Ianto too, each in their own way. Ianto’d had a special gift to work his way into their hearts without them noticing it, without anyone even noticing him at all. But even though they all felt his absence in the Hub and though Jack had noticed them throwing almost grieving glances towards the coffee machine each morning and even throughout the day, he could also feel the anger in the air, he could see the betrayal in their eyes. The once well-oiled machine was spluttering forwards the best it could, but the distrust among them made it increasingly difficult to do so.

If one of them could hide a Cyberman in the basement, what else could they be hiding? Jack was fairly certain none of them were hiding anything of that kind of catastrophic potential, having looked through even archival CCTV footage over and over again. Beside some minor infractions that were not even worth writing down in his personal logs, he hadn’t found anything. But he knew the trust of the team could not be rebuilt the same way. Put aside the outrageous privacy breach, it would not solve the trust issues in the long run if they were watching each other like hawks every second of every day. He would have to let them lay all cards on the table themselves.

With one last glance at the empty corner of his desk that was usually designated for his coffee, Jack made a wish he knew to be futile to the gods he’d never believed in: he really wanted his Welsh assistant back. And not just for the coffee.

❖

There was something quite amusing about the way they tried so adamantly not to look up when he entered the room, Jack thought. Owen was stubbornly staring into his awful coffee from the take-away across the Plass, undoubtedly blaming Ianto and his absence for the poor quality. The doctor often reminded Jack of a petulant child, ever so fiercely in need of attention even though he’d never admit it. Toshiko looked far less defiant, just guilty to just be in this room, fully aware of what they were about to discuss. Some people were too kind for their own good. Jack did not need to ask her to know she’d throw Ianto a second chance right into his arms the second she saw him.

Sometimes he wished he could be as trusting as Tosh. Sure, he considered himself a forgiving man. He at least tried his very best to be as much. But in the long life he’d lived, he had experience betrayal too often to trust blindly.

The person whose opinion he valued most of all was not as easy to read as the rest of the team though. Just like her colleagues, Gwen seemed to avoid his eyes at all cost, but not because of anger or guilt. Desperate as he was to know her stance on the matter, Jack could not figure out what was going through her head, which was unusual to say the least. The way Gwen always spoke her mind to Jack was one of the main reasons why he had hired her. There was no fussing in tip-toeing around sensitive issues. When she disagreed with him, he did not need to find out about it days later.

Whenever he was in doubt, all he had to do was look at Gwen to know what she thought about whatever was puzzling him. He may be the leader of Torchwood, but it wasn’t because of his particularly good moral compass. Having something like Torchwood thrown into your lap because your previous boss killed the entire team and himself, was no gift. Even after leading Torchwood for all this time, he still didn’t feel like he’d earned it, like he was the rightful leader. After all, how could he change Torchwood, lead it after the Doctor’s image, when he was nothing even close to the Doctor? He was not a good man. He tried to be, but he was aware that he might not be the best judge on whether he was successful or not. After all, the Doctor had left him behind for a reason, whatever it had been. Sometimes Jack wondered if the Doctor was avoiding Cardiff because of him.

So he had hired Gwen, not just because he really did want to use Torchwood to help people as he’d told her, but mostly because he trusted Gwen to tell him when he was wrong, to remind him why he’d set out to change Torchwood in the first place. To remind him of the Doctor’s image he tried so hard to recreate in Torchwood. On some days, she even reminded him of Rose.

Today, however, his trusted moral compass seemed as much at a loss as the man he had just left at his flat.

“I must be losing my touch if no one so much as looks up when I enter the room,” Jack quipped in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“Some of us have standards, Harkness,” Owen sneered in response.

“Can we get down to business, Jack? I have some police reports that might show some alien involvements and I wanted to get through them by noon. Why did you call us in here?” Gwen asked.

Jack stared at Ianto’s designated chair as if it would give him advice on how to bring up the subject as delicately as possible. He’d always thought it to be a bit funny that everyone stuck to the same seats. Obviously, he took the chair at the head of the table, he liked to have a nice overview of his team, keep an eye on everyone. But there was no reason for the rest of them to stick to the same positions, except for the human nature to follow habits. On any other day, he liked the normalcy of it, but today it made the vacant chair feel all the more painfully empty. A reminder of the chaos that had rained down on the Hub only a few days ago.

“I want to talk about Ianto,” Jack said eventually. He kept his eyes levelled on his team, trying to work out what they were thinking.

“Let me guess, you want to give Tea-boy another chance,” Owen scoffed. “I thought Torchwood was supposed to protect the Earth from aliens, not give them a nice comfy bed and, oh why not, give them the perfect fucking base to take over the entire planet. Tea-boy probably would have helped to make a shitload of cyber-babies if he could have.”

“Owen!” Tosh gasped, bless her. “He was only trying to save his girlfriend. It was obvious that he loved her. Wouldn’t you want someone to fight for you like that?”

“No!” Jack and Owen called out in unison.

“Once the conversion has started, there is nothing left you can do,” Jack explained. “There may be a tiny part of your conscience left, but eventually you won’t be in control, not really. You end up in a body that you have no control over, a body that kills everyone you love, a body that will destroy the entire planet to recreate it in their image. Yes, what Ianto did, he did out of love. But he was wrong about the way to help her. There was no way to save her. Killing her was the only thing we could do for her.”

Despite his explanation, Gwen and Tosh were clearly still uncomfortable with killing Ianto’s cyber-girlfriend. With Gwen it was understandable, since she hadn’t been here for long, but Tosh had been in the field for years now and Jack had thought her to have hardened a little. Unless it wasn’t guilt he was seeing, but rather anger.

“I know he betrayed us, but if I can forgive him—”

“It didn’t look like you forgave him, Jack,” Gwen cut in. “You were really cruel to him, ordering him to kill her himself. And Myfanwy… Ianto loves that creature and you made him watch her eat his girlfriend alive. How could you do that?”

Jack’s heart sank at the memory. Admittedly, that was not his finest moment, but he had seen no other way out. Myfanwy had proven useful as their guard-dog, but he hadn’t realised Ianto’s peculiar affection for the prehistoric animal would make the situation all the more conflicting. He understood Gwen’s grievance with him.

Still, he was not supposed to be the object of discussion today.

“Ianto had to face the consequences of his actions. He had to see that there was no stopping her, that that _thing_ was not his girlfriend, but a killing machine,” Jack tried to explain. “In the heat of the moment, there was no time to be sensitive. I made a call to save our lives and to secure the threat in the Hub. As for ordering him to deliver the kill himself—I needed to know where his loyalties lay.”

“But he didn’t kill her. We did.” The guilt in Tosh’s voice was unmistakeable. No matter how long she had been in Torchwood, there would always be that hint of innocence about her that Jack hoped would never completely fade away. Apparently, she hadn’t hardened as much as he’d originally thought. Jack admired her for that.

“No. Lisa Hallett died at Canary Wharf. We killed a machine, nothing more.”

“Does Ianto know that?” Gwen asked. Her pleading eyes reminded Jack of the desperate look in Ianto’s eyes when he’d pushed Jack’s Webley against his forehead. Jack shuddered at the memory.

If only they knew just how far gone Ianto really was.

“He’ll get there. But that is not the issue at hand here. I know you feel betrayed and I know how that betrayal can linger for a long time. But Ianto’s actions weren’t meant to harm any of us. He was Torchwood long before he came here and I believe he deserves a second chance. I didn’t want to pull rank on this, but his suspension will only last one week and then we will review the terms of his return. That is my final judgment.”

Jack closes his eyes and braced himself for the upcoming discussion, heated as he knew it would be. Leading Torchwood the way he did, had consequences: it wouldn’t be the first time they’d openly question his decisions.

But the silence that hit him instead was even more worrisome. He knew they had been discussing Ianto’s actions behind his back. He’d heard the barely muted whispers, he’d seen the fiery looks they exchanged when they felt they couldn’t talk out loud in his presence.

“We’ve talked about it already, Jack, and—”

“I don’t want to hear all the reasons you don’t trust him.” Jack put up his hands to stop Gwen. “I got the message. But I believe he is still Torchwood material. So now you all need to find a way to work through that anger and mistrust, because he _is_ coming back.”

“That’s what Gwen was trying to say, mate, we agree.”

Surprised to hear those words from Owen of all people, Jack looked around the table. Both Gwen and Tosh looked up at him, smiling softly as if they were the ones persuading him to accept Ianto back. Apparently, Jack knew his team even worse than he’d thought. First Ianto had blindsided him completely, now he couldn’t even read the rest of them either?

Owen must have sensed his confusion.

“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him. And I still think he was a downright idiot. He of all people should have known what cybermen are like. But like you said, he’s Torchwood. He’s one of us.”

Despite his surprise, Jack could not suppress a smile of pride. Not long after Suzie’s betrayal, his team had had to endure yet another, but they stood tall and steady. And Jack could not be prouder.

“We were just wondering…” Gwen took a long sip of coffee as if trying to find some courage in it. “Shouldn’t we do something? The man just lost his girlfriend. Yes, I know, Jack. She’d been dead for a while, but not from his perspective. If I’d lose Rhys like that… I would not be okay, Jack. Maybe we should talk to him? Or maybe let someone professional—”

“I’ve already talked to him yesterday and this morning.”

“Are you sure you are the right person for this?”

Jack looked up, confused. Gwen held up her arms in defence. “I don’t doubt you want to help him, Jack, but maybe the man who ordered him to kill his girlfriend is not the right person to help him to move on.”

“You want to hold his hand while we all go into group therapy? He’s old enough to face the consequences to his actions,” Owen said.

Gwen still didn’t look convinced.

“I won’t give up on him, Gwen. I have around the clock surveillance on him so we don’t get any more surprises, but I’m also keeping an eye out in case he tries to do something else… something he won’t come back from.”

“Jack,” Gwen exclaimed, “you can’t do that! You can’t just invade his privacy like—”

“He lost his right to privacy the moment he endangered the Hub, the moment he endangered the team.” Jack put his hands down on the table. “I may have forgiven him, but that does not mean I will trust him blindly, nor will I forget that easily.”

Relieved that the worst of the tension seemed to have been resolved, Jack called the meeting to an end. There was just one last thing nagging at him, so he followed Owen to the medical bay. His hands in his pockets to keep up a casual air, Jack kept a distance to watch the doctor start on the autopsy of the latest weevil. They’d had an increase in violent behaviour among the weevils and as usual with anything regarding the creatures, no clue as to what was causing it.

His concern was not with the autopsy, however, but with the way Owen had been acting the past few days. Or rather, the way he wasn’t acting: Jack couldn’t remember the last snappy remark from the doctor, no grumpy complaints about the weather, lack coffee, food… Even when Ianto was still around to cater to their every need, he’d still found something to nag about. Ever since the affair with Ianto’s cyber-girlfriend, however, Owen had been unusually quiet. When Jack heard Owen come to Ianto’s defence, it had been the proverbial last drop. Something was going on and he’d learnt his lesson not to let those kind of gut feelings slide.

“You gonna stand there all day or do you want to give me a hand?” Owen asked, pulling Jack from his musings.

“I’d rather watch and leave him in your capable hands, doctor Harper.” Owen’s eye roll could have rivalled Ianto’s had he been in the Hub.

“Any particular reason why you’ve taken a special interest in me today, boss? Tea-boy’s not around so you need someone else to leer at?”

With his back turned to Jack as he continued the autopsy, Jack couldn’t see Owen’s face, but he imagined it was scrunched up in concentration as it usually was while working. Owen might be a bit of a prat, but he delivered good work and though he could be quite unreliable at times, he always took his work seriously.

“I was just surprised to see you defend Ianto, that’s all.” Jack said as he walked down the stairs. “I had expected it from the girls, but I didn’t know you two were so close?”

The metallic clack of the scalpel as it hit the instrument tray made Jack wince.

“I don’t hold a torch for the man, nor do I have a personal problem with him. Do I like what he did? No. But I understand it. I thought you of all people would know why.”

The haunted look in Owen’s eyes as he looked up at him dropped the final piece to the puzzle in Jack’s mind. He’d seen it before.

“Katie.”

Owen nodded. “If I could have done anything like Ianto did,” he took off his gloves and faced Jack, “I would have. Katie was dead, Lisa wasn’t.” Owen put up his hands to silence Jack’s disagreement. “I know killing her was a mercy, both to her and to Ianto. But I also understand why he had to try. I didn’t even have that chance.” Owen’s voice cracked at the end.

There weren’t many moments when Owen let his guard down and talked about his feelings. But when he did, Owen seemed like a completely different man, lost and broken. Jack put a hand his shoulder and pulled his friend into his arms.

“I wish I could say it gets better, but it doesn’t. The pain will stay and so will the guilt. You can’t go back in time to change it. You can’t help her now. Not Katie, not Lisa. It doesn’t get better, but we can be better ourselves. We fight, so others don’t have to carry that guilt, that grief.”

Jack could feel Owen’s tears wetting his shirt. He let the man find his breath before he let go of him.

In silent agreement to end the conversation then and there, they both turned around and returned to their job.

There was nothing left to say or do after all. It was what it was. And they would carry on, just like they did any other day. The only thing that changed, was that in a few days there would be a third man in the Hub, sharing the guilt, the grief.


	3. Wednesday

Mornings used to be easy. In London, Ianto had developed a simple morning routine. To start his day fresh and to keep up his physique, he’d made a habit of going for a run at the crack of dawn. He liked to run through the streets and watch the world wake up around him. It was that one moment of the day where he could be alone with his thoughts. A world without haste, a world only with people like him, early birds.

Having forsaken his routine for quite a while, too busy and exhausted taking care of Lisa, he’d started to feel the loss of physique as well as some withdrawal from the endorphins he used to get from running. Now that he barely even got up from his couch to the fridge on his suspension, he felt even stiffer than the past months. He’d barely been able to sleep and was lying awake once again, watching his alarm clock. Any second now, it would start blaring Lisa’s favourite song.

As soon as the he heard the first notes, he shut off his alarm, unable to bear the memories that came with the song. The past months, that song had reminded him of why he worked in the Hub. Now, it only reminded him of what he’d lost. His head foggy from prolonged sleep-deprivation, Ianto walked towards his bathroom. On his way, his eyes caught his sweatpants. Perhaps another morning run could clear his mind and help him figure out what to tell Jack. The fresh air as he walked out the door of his building hit him by surprise. He really had been cooped up in his flat for too long. After a few stretches, he started a leisurely pace around the neighbourhood and let his mind wander.

Throughout his childhood, Ianto had never been much of a morning person. His sister had always been up before him, nagging at him to get out of bed. According to his father, it was yet another sign of his incorrigible laziness.

But his job in London had changed that. Working at Torchwood had given him the feeling that he actually meant something. It had made him feel like he was needed. In the early days he had not seen much of what really went on at Torchwood, but working for Yvonne Hartman had changed everything for good. He’d even become a bit of a workaholic. His father would have never believed it.

School just hadn’t been right for him. He’d been a mediocre student, but mostly because he’d never bothered to get higher scores. With his perfect recall, Ianto could have easily been top of his class without even trying, but it had seemed futile to him. It didn’t matter what grades were on you diploma, as long as you got it. Ianto’d just wanted to get through school without being noticed too much. He’d never liked to be at the center of attention.

Working at Torchwood had been the perfect fit. Even as a kid, he’d dreamed of getting out of Cardiff and going to London, where the big skyscrapers were. He’d always dreamed of an office with a view. At Torchwood, he was part of something bigger, part of an institution that was innovating the world. He was doing something important, yet at the same time, he was able to merge with the rest of the company. He didn’t need to stand out, he was perfectly comfortable to work in the shadows. Torchwood was very good at that.

His promotion as Yvonne’s assistant had come with a considerable pay raise, which he and Lisa had celebrated at large. The money was not the only thing he’d liked about the job though. Never one to attract attention to himself, Ianto had grown accustomed to retreating in the shadows and working in a way that no one noticed him. But at the same time, Ianto had a natural curiosity: he liked to keep an ear close to the ground, to know what was going on in the halls of Canary Wharf. He’d found out from an early age that that kind of knowledge could be powerful in life. Walking literally in Yvonne’s shadow allowed Ianto to be everywhere and yet go unnoticed in doing so. No one paid attention to the assistant.

His position at Torchwood Three as its glorified butler provided him with similar advantages. No one cared about his personal life. As long as they had their coffee on time and he didn’t forget to include their favourites in the take-out, they never bothered him. The only one who kept an eye on him was Jack, but even he was only looking at his body, not what he was doing. Ianto had been keenly aware of how his suits distracted Jack, which was one of the main reason he wore them.

Even though he was no longer required to wear suits like he was at Torchwood One, which he had despised at first, he found it easier to keep up the charade in his tailored armour. The first days working in a suit in London felt like he was wearing a clown suit. He’d never liked the confined sensation of suits, especially the tie that felt like a literal noose around his neck. The fact that it reminded him of his father and his constant nagging over ‘gentleman’s clothes’ didn’t improve the suffocating feeling. But in his attempts to sway Jack Harkness to hire him, he’d realised that flirting would be his way into Torchwood Three. The suit had been a way to play a character in order to set his guilt over betraying Lisa aside. And over time, the clothes had become second nature to him and he could not imagine going to work in anything else.

A smile snuck its way unto Ianto’s lips as he remembered Lisa teaching him how to tie a Windsor knot. He’d been absolutely rubbish with his hands, all flustered by her proximity. It had been the day the Queen herself would be visiting Canary Wharf and Lisa had deemed the occasion worthy of a more formal knot. Mortified, he’d had to confess that he barely knew how to tie a regular knot. He’d always refused to let his father teach him. She’d smiled with those beautiful eyes and stood up close to him, loosening his tie to start on the intricate knot. As she kept her eyes focused on his tie, he’d stared at her, completely in awe of her beauty and brazenness.

When she’d finished the knot, he still could not tear his eyes from her, even though she’d caught him staring. She had been wearing that flowery perfume he loved so much. He had never bothered to ask the name, since she had told him very early on that she didn’t like to receive perfume as a gift. It never was the right kind, she had explained. Completely phased by her proximity and her perfume, he had kissed her without even thinking about it. That had been their first kiss.

As he turned the corner, Ianto could see his building coming into view. A quick look at his watch told him he’d been running for almost an hour now and as Lisa’s face faded from his memory, he noticed the burning sensation in his legs. Panting heavily, he walked the rest of his way home, trying to even out his breath. On the steps of his building he could already make out a figure in a greatcoat. He still hadn’t sorted out how he felt about returning the Hub. On the one hand he longed for the comfort of a regimented schedule, a job that kept his head busy and away from the painful memories. But he also could not imagine going back to the last place where he’d seen her. The place where she had died, for good. To the man that had killed her.

With heavy limbs, he walked up the stairs, purposely ignoring his boss. The petty child inside him wanted to slam the door shut behind him, but he held it open nevertheless. As soon as he felt the weight of the door taken over, he let go and strode up the stairs. His legs might be feeling like lead, but to hell if he would show any weakness. If he couldn’t be petty in slamming doors like a child, he would very well be petty in his own unnoticeable ways.

❖

Glad to have tidied up before his run, Ianto looked around his flat once more. It felt a bit too tidy, too much like he’d done an effort. Then again, Jack probably expected his flat to be immaculate all the time with all the tidying Ianto did around the Hub. Jack didn’t need to know that he could be a bit of a slob at home, contrary to his behaviour at work. Even in London Ianto’s colleagues had often quipped about his near-OCD tendencies. Ianto just hadn’t liked to be idle at work, afraid to be perceived as lazy. Over time, he had grown used to keeping his hands busy and his hands would pick up and tidy up on their own as he walked around the place. It made him feel in control. It wasn’t a bad habit so he’d never seen a point to change it. He just didn’t keep up the effort at home as much.

Still not willing to give Jack the satisfaction of acknowledging his presence, Ianto went about his place like any other day. He took off his sweaty shirt and ignored Jack’s ogling eyes piercing his back as he walked towards his bedroom ensuite. The man really did not have any shame in his libido. Any other day it would be nothing short of a compliment, but Ianto felt it was highly inappropriate considering the circumstances. At least he kept his hands to himself. In his short career he’d seen multiple cases of sexual harassment. Jack Harkness might be an incorrigible flirt, but Ianto knew he’d never lay his hands on anyone without their permission.

He decided that if the man insisted on inviting himself into Ianto’s flat, he could very well wait until he’d taken a short shower to clean off the sweat and smell. Remembering Jack’s ogling tendencies, Ianto closed his bedroom door and the one to his ensuite too just to be sure. Now that he was alone, he took the liberty to stretch leisurely, trying to sooth the cramps that were already starting to form. He started the warm water tap while he took off the rest of his clothes. Once under the shower, Ianto closed his eyes and enjoyed the warm water rushing over his body, washing off the tension along with the sweat. Strange how a simple shower could mute out the entire world.

His flat’s warm water was not in endless supply, however, and sooner than he’d wished, Ianto had to turn off the tap and step back into the cold air of the bathroom. He stared into the steamed up mirror, but didn’t try to clear up the surface. He knew what he’d see: a man who has barely slept for days in a row. With his double job at the Hub tending to both the team and his girlfriend, Ianto had always returned to his flat completely burned out. Now that he had nothing to fill his days with but memories, he spent his nights wide awake and staring at the ceiling. Those sleepless nights were starting to show under his eyes.

With a towel wrapped around his waist, Ianto moved into his bedroom. The door to his flat was still closed. Even though he’d taken the measure to close both doors purposely to keep Jack out, he wasn’t surprised Jack hadn’t taken advantage of the shower. Ever since he’d shown up on Monday, Jack had been uncharacteristically reserved and almost shy apart from some small flirtatious quips that didn’t have their usual effect on Ianto.

Perhaps he really did feel some remorse over the way he’d handled Lisa’s outbreak and his order to have Ianto kill her himself. He paused his hand on the trouser rack as the memory of the pizza girl, taken over by his girlfriend, flashed before his eyes. _Annie_. She’d been Ianto’s favourite delivery girl. He knew she was taking the delivery job on the side, trying to pay for university. _Had been taking._ No more pizza deliveries for her. No more university. No more.

And that was on him.

Seeing what Lisa had done to Annie had been the final straw for Ianto. He’d held out hope for her through every setback. He’d known that she was still in there, no matter what Jack said. She’d still remembered everything they’d shared, she was still the woman he loved. But the Lisa he’d fallen in love with would never have taken a life. She sure as hell would never have tried to justify it. He’d realised then that he had lost her. She had tried to reason with him, remind him of a better time, but it had felt so wrong. It wasn’t the fact that she’d looked different. Lisa—no, not Lisa, _that thing_ —had tried to use their memories to persuade him, to make him like her, to _upgrade_ him. Now those memories were soiled. And he would never get to make new memories with her.

He stared at the trousers in his hands. Lost in his memories, he’d automatically picked out a suit as if he’d be going into work. Smoothing over the creases, Ianto put the trousers back in his closet and took out a more casual pair of jeans and a simple T-shirt. No need to dress up while on suspension even if his boss was in the other room. He wondered if the fact that he still thought of the man as his boss meant that he’d subconsciously already made a decision about staying in Torchwood.

Back in his living room, Ianto noticed Jack sitting patiently on his sofa, reading a magazine Ianto had left on the coffee table. Seeing Jack do anything patiently would have worried Ianto on any other day, but today he decided not to care about what might be going on with Jack. He moved towards the coffee machine and automatically took out two mugs as he waited for the machine to start up.

“Ah, I was just about to ask you for a cup of that heavenly coffee,” Ianto heard Jack say behind his back.

He turned around to see Jack had stood up from the couch and walked up to the kitchen. With a fresh mind from the workout, Ianto started to notice little things about Jack that he’d overlooked the days before. He was used to Jack’s confident strut around the Hub, but in his flat, Jack seemed shy and out of place. His eyes darting around the place, hands fidgeting nervously, Jack looked positively intimidated and it was not a look Ianto was used to.

The same pettiness that had wanted to slam the door in Jack’s face relished in Jack’s anxiety, but it also made Ianto feel uncomfortable. He didn’t like it when people behaved uncharacteristically. It made them unpredictable. Seeing this vulnerable side to Jack made Ianto feel like he didn’t know the man at all. More importantly, it made it difficult for Ianto to hate the man.

Silently, Ianto went back to work at the coffee machine. He liked the routine of it. His hands knew how to do the work. Making coffee was easy, making good coffee was an art. The difference between coffee and good coffee was in the details. Every step of the process could ruin the coffee if you messed it up. Most people got used to the bitter taste of bad coffee and assumed it was just how coffee was just supposed to taste. Take-away coffee-houses with baristas who only cared about getting to as much customers in as little time as possible, didn’t help of course. Ianto’s mother had taught him every step, every caution, every detail. He smiled at the memory.

With two steaming mugs of coffee in front of him, Ianto no longer saw an excuse to delay the inevitable and turned around to hand Jack his mug. To his surprise, Jack had left his side and sat at the kitchen tablet waiting. It occurred to him that this meant Ianto had to walk up to Jack himself, as if he wanted to instigate the conversation. Not willing to give into Jack’s manipulation, Ianto stayed mute as he put down both mugs and sat down to drink his coffee. The silence in the kitchen was getting uncomfortable, but Ianto stubbornly refused to budge.

“Have you given thought to my question?” Jack asked eventually.

“I have,” Ianto answered stoically. He hadn’t been able to think about much else since yesterday morning. To his own surprise, he hadn’t felt as opposed to the idea of returning as expected. The work was decent, the pay much higher than in London and his colleagues weren’t bad. His role in the tourist office was a nice reprieve to the isolated Hub, giving him the opportunity to talk to the occasional tourist. Overall his job hadn’t differed much from being Yvonne’s PA except for the obvious lack of Yvonne and … well, Jack Harkness.

“I can’t read your mind, Ianto.”

“I don’t know,” he kept his eyes focused on his coffee, “there is a lot to think about.” He took a sip of coffee, letting the warm liquid calm down the pins and needles in his stomach. “You were right, I am Torchwood. I couldn’t imagine a different life. I know that with retcon I wouldn’t remember, but I think I’d know there was something missing. There is something about Torchwood, about _knowing_ Torchwood, that changes you.”

“Sounds like you’ve made up your mind.”

Ianto emptied his mug in small sips to buy some time before he continued.

“It’s more complicated than that isn’t it?”

“Everything is complicated, Ianto, but that doesn’t need to stop us,” Jack countered.

“Can I ask you something?” Ianto asked.

Jack looked up with a wary smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I believe you just did.”

His eyes fixed on the empty mug, Ianto wished had something stronger than coffee.

“Why are you doing this?”

“You asked that already and I’ve—” Jack answered, confused and clearly misunderstanding what Ianto meant.

“I’ve asked already, you dodged the question like you always do,” Ianto interrupted before Jack could spin yet another tale. He wouldn’t let Jack leave without a proper answer this time.

As he looked up from his mug, he caught Jack staring at him intently, as if he was trying to read his mind. Wary of the many crazy tales that may or may not have been made up, Ianto felt uneasy in the examination. He tried to clear his mind in case Jack Harkness might actually be able to read minds. He’d heard crazier stories in London about the man.

“You’ve spent a lot of time in the archives now.” Jack started after lengthy hesitation.

“Don’t distract me with another tale, Jack, I need to know,” Ianto said, exasperated at yet another attempt to dodge the conversation he needed so much.

“I’m not dodging, I promise,” Jack put up his hands in defence, “I just wanted to know how much you found about me in the archives.”

Confused at the direction this conversation was taking, Ianto frowned.

“I haven’t been snooping—”

“I’m not accusing you of anything, Ianto.” Jack sighed deeply, hands in his hair. “You are the archivist, I know you’ve done good work organising the archive. I’m also aware there’s documentation on me in those records.”

In the first weeks in the archives Ianto had indeed looked into the records, especially into whatever he could find on the strange man everyone at Canary Wharf had been talking about. But he’d also been busy with taking care of Lisa, smuggling in the necessary equipment to sustain her. His excavations in the archive had soon been focused on finding technology that could be linked up to the conversion unit to alter it according to Lisa’s instructions. Aside from a few recent case reports, he had not found much.

“There was some,” Ianto admitted, “but nothing peculiar that I can think of.” 

“What do you know about the Millennium Bug?” Jack asked.

“You’re joking, right?”

“Not at all,” Jack smiled. “Okay, that Millennium Bug was slightly more of an alien than a computer bug, but we kept the name nevertheless.”

“What does that Millennium Bug have to do with me?”

“Nothing.”

“So—”

“It has everything to do with me,” Jack finished, his tone levelled, but cautious.

Ianto could not believe his ears. As detailed and descriptive Jack was in his tales about his questionable alien sexcapades, he never talked about his past in any serious way. They knew nothing of importance about their leader and it had often driven them all mad with curiosity and annoyance at the same time. But this time there was no promiscuous tone, no showing off. There was a grave tone in his voice and Ianto presumed he was about to get a rare glance at the man’s mysterious past, so he waited patiently for Jack to gather his thoughts.

“Torchwood Three has always been different from Torchwood One. Not just smaller, different. Our smaller size is more of a consequence of our different approach. The institute in London was, well that: an institute. I was once offered to lead Torchwood in London, long time ago…,” Jack mused, lost in thought for a while. “I was always bound to Cardiff though, for reasons I cannot explain. It is not a matter of what I want to tell, there are certain things people are not supposed to know, not yet.”

Ianto was just about to object as Jack was, as usual, speaking in riddles and skirting around the truth when Jack seemed to realise it too.

“That doesn’t matter right now. When I was originally hired as a freelance agent for Torchwood Three, it was… different to say the least. Alien life forms were fair game. They were executed on the spot. It was us against them. We hunt down weevils, but nothing like they used to: no matter how docile, aliens were all put down like dogs. They never saw grey zones. Anything alien was regarded as dirty and wrong.”

“Whereas we in London tried to assimilate alien tech into ours. ‘If it’s alien, it’s ours,’ Yvonne used to say.”

Ianto caught Jack’s surprised look and realised his slip-up by calling his former boss by her first name.

“I may have erased some parts of my file as I didn’t see my time as Yvonne Hartman’s PA would benefit me to get you to hire me. I know she was not particularly fond of you, so I figured the feeling might have been mutual…” Ianto admitted sheepishly. His honesty seemed to be appreciated though.

“I guess that explains how good you are at taking care of us all in the Hub. If you could put up with that vixen—”

“She really wasn’t that bad,” Ianto felt he had to come to his late boss’s defence. She had always treated him well. “Just because she saw things differently doesn’t mean she was evil. Like you always say: it’s Torchwood’s job to arm the human race against the future and the believed we had to put our mark on the map to do so. She— We all made a wrong judgement call and we all paid the price. As you know, she was no exception to that.”

Ianto held his chin up, ready to counter any objections, but Jack seemed ready to accept Ianto’s words and to lay the issue to rest.

“Near the turn of the century, Torchwood Three was already starting to change under Alex Hopkins,” Jack continued. The name rang a bell.

“Alex Hopkins, he’s the one that— Oh. Wait, how could you have been there?” Ianto asked confused. He knew about Hopkins, the former leader of Torchwood Three. The name also linked up with the previous conversation subject. “The Millennium Bug. New Year’s eve of the turn of the century, the turn of the millennium: that’s when he— That is when you took over, isn’t it?”

Jack looked at him strangely when he put the date, name and alien together, almost… proud?

“Not exactly. As you apparently know, he was under the influence of an alien artefact and killed the entire Torchwood team before committing suicide. I didn’t take over by choice. I was the only one left.”

The grief in Jack’s eyes finally made sense to Ianto, though there was still something that bugged him about the story. Having had first-hand experience with something similar, it made him uneasy to ask though. He knew how it felt, how much he hated to talk about it himself. But he needed to know.

“How did you survive?”

At first it didn’t seem like Jack had heard his question, staring in front of him, lost in the memories. But after a few long seconds, he took a deep breath and spoke in a broken voice, still not looking up.

“He gave Torchwood to me, for my time of service as field operative. He told me—” he seemed to push back as sob and continued, “He told me to give this place a purpose before it’s too late. He had seen what was coming. Killing the others, they were mercy killings, he said. ‘So none of us see the storm’.”

“Twenty-first century is when everything changes. That’s why you keep telling us. It’s what he said, isn’t it?” Ianto said as realisation dawned upon him.

Jack nodded, still staring at whatever he was remembering, his eyes glossy but wide open.

Ianto recognised the look. He’d obviously never seen himself like that, but he knew it was how he must look when he got lost in the memories, the flames, the screams. They might have had more in common than he’d originally thought. He stood up to get a stronger drink despite the early hour.

He’d never seen Jack drink anything stronger than coffee, but when he put down the glasses in front of him, Jack swallowed the contents in one gulp as if it were water. Only the way his face scrunched up a bit afterwards showed that the brandy had its effect.

Seeing Jack in this state, forced Ianto to re-evaluate the Captain and more importantly, himself. He had to admit he’d never showed any interest in Jack beyond his reputations and whatever could have helped him to work his way into the Hub. Only a few days ago, he had accused Jack of just that lack of basic humanity, but apparently he had been no different.

“You asked why I’m doing this,” Jack said when he motioned for a refill. “Now you know why.”

Ianto poured another glass, even though he hadn’t even touched his own yet. “Because you’re afraid I’ll do the same as Alex Hopkins.”

That seemed to have been the wrong answer as Jack looked up at him and frowned.

“No,” Jack said, “because _I_ have to be better. Because you were right, I didn’t care enough. What you did was as much your fault as it was mine. I should have seen something, done something. But I didn’t, because—” Jack’s trembling hands moved towards the glass, but he didn’t drink from it. “Sometimes I think I’m not up for the job,” he admitted in a weak voice.

If Ianto had been surprised at Jack’s honesty before, he was completely dumbfounded now. The man in front of him was nothing like the boss he’d been working for. He certainly didn’t resemble the man they’d gossiped about back in London. This man, he was someone Ianto could feel a kinship with. This was a man just trying to figure out what to do with the life that was thrown in his lap. Not so different from himself.

Even though he’d only poured himself a glass because it felt weird to only give Jack one, he quickly downed his own brandy to loosen the knot in his stomach. Not used to the strong liquor, he winced at the burn, but he liked how the scorching feeling in his throat somehow made sense. It felt right in a weird way. A little more courageous with the liquor taking away some inhibitions, he put his hand on Jack’s trying to comfort him.

“I don’t think anyone’s up for leading Torchwood,” he said, “we all just figure it out as we go along. The twenty-first century has only just begun. We have time to figure it out.”

Jack looked up at him, his eyes questioning Ianto’s words, but smiled eventually.

“Do you count yourself among that ‘we’?” Jack asked cautiously.

For the first time in days, Ianto felt confident as he answered. “Yes. If you’ll have me, of course,” he added hastily, as he realised he may have spoken out of turn.

Jack smiled and this time it seemed genuine as Ianto saw that trademark mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Oh, trust me, the team is more than ready to welcome you back. They’ve had to rely on take-out coffee for days now. You’ve spoilt normal coffee for us, Ianto,” Jack laughed. “They might give you a hard time at first and of course it will be a rocky road to rebuild trust, but I believe we’ll be fine. We are Torchwood after all.”

“We are Torchwood,” Ianto agreed.


	4. Thursday

Jack couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this nervous. He felt like a teenager going on his first date. Or at least, how he imagined teenagers felt on their first date in this twenty-first century. Back on Boeshane Peninsula, he’d never been nervous about dating or sex or all that was in between. Those things were easier in the fifty-first century.

His anxiety this morning had nothing to do with anything of the sort however, this was purely professional. Ianto was still only halfway into his week of suspension, but now that the worst of the tension between them was resolved, it was time to reassess the man and his duties. Jack had come to realise that the man probably had many more tricks up his sleeve than just coffee and filing. Even though he despised Yvonne Hartman, he knew the woman hired only the best. Knowing Ianto had been her personal assistant could only mean he was much more capable than he’d shown at the Hub.

Yesterday his visits to Ianto’s flat had finally delivered and Jack felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Opening up about his past seemed to have helped to break through Ianto’s walls. He hadn’t expected to feel so at ease with the man. There was something about him, the articulate Welsh vowels, the quiet demeanour, the proud yet at the same time modest stance. And those eyes…

Ever since they’d met in the park the very first time, Jack had seen something in the Welshman’s eyes. He hadn’t even known his name, but he had felt like he knew the man, like there was some kind of kinship between them. He’d seen the galaxy in his eyes.

Not in the corny, soggy romantic comedy kind of way.

He’d seen wonder and endlessness. Pain and happiness and everything in between. The galaxy had a way of making you feel small and godlike at the same time as you stare into its abyss. That was what he’d felt looking into Ianto’s eyes that very first time.

Now he knew how such a young man could have known such depths.

Wisdom like that only came with long age like himself or the Doctor, or with extreme pain and misery. He’d known Ianto had experienced the Battle of Canary Wharf, but what he endured in the sub-basements of the Hub for months must have been much worse. It was the feeling of futile hope that could really destroy a man, far more easily than physical torture. Jack had learnt that first-hand, on both sides of the torture.

The blaring proximity alarm shook him from his musings. He’d sent out the rest of the team on chores to get some time alone with Ianto. He could have debriefed him at his flat, but he wanted Ianto to get reacquainted with the Hub before actually coming back to work. Jack did not want to risk overexposing him all at once.

Ianto walked up the stairs and looked around him, clearly wondering where the rest of the team was. Jack saw his shoulders drop as the man realised he wouldn’t have to face them yet. There would be enough awkwardness on his actual return, so Jack had thought it better to avoid the confrontations for now.

“In my office, Ianto,” Jack beckoned. The man was once again dressed in an impeccable suit, his posture showed confidence. Ianto looked every bit the butler Jack had got used to. But Jack had come to understand how good Ianto was at pretending. And since Jack had seen a completely different man only the day before, he knew that was what Ianto was doing right now.

Clearly not just a choice of fashion, those suits. Jack understood like no other how powerful the right clothes could be. His own greatcoat was his daily reminder of the man he wanted to be.

Jack wondered what kind of man Ianto wished to be.

Timidly, Ianto entered his office and stood still by the chair. He did not sit down before Jack motioned for it. Jack immediately understood the amicable way they had ended their conversation the day before, would not extend to today. This was their work environment and he was Ianto’s boss. Jack decided against pouring them a glass of brandy and sat down at his desk.

“Thank you for coming here. I know you’re still on suspension, but I thought we could already go over the terms of your reinstatement,” Jack said.

Ianto nodded in comprehension, but still didn’t speak a word.

“I addition to your previous tasks, I would like to assess your potential as we’ve noticed your abilities extend far beyond coffee and dry-cleaning,” Jack continued.

A guilty look appeared on Ianto’s face. Jack winced as he realised he’d only rubbed salt in the wound. He’d meant to start a clean slate, but was not doing a great job so far. The fact that he had to go over Ianto’s past in London to assess his skills, would not make it any easier.

“Your file states you worked as a Junior Researcher, is any of that correct?” Jack asked.

Ianto nodded once again. “I was hired as a Junior Researcher and worked as such for about a year. Living in London was more expensive than I’d anticipated though, so I’d looked into options for a raise. It would take too long to be promoted within the Research department, so I put in a request for field training. Field agents could climb up the ranks much faster.”

If Ianto noticed Jack’s surprise, he didn’t show it, but then again he was staring at his hands while he spoke, as if he were confessing like a child. Vaguely Jack recalled Ianto referring to himself as an ex-agent of Torchwood London, so he shouldn’t have been that surprised, he chastised himself.

“You couldn’t have been a field agent for long if you were also Yvonne Harman’s PA during those two years in London,” Jack said.

“No,” Ianto smiled, “only for one day.”

“That good or that bad?” Jack asked.

Ianto shrugged. “Neither. It was a quiet day. Nothing out of the ordinary. Or at least that’s what the others said. I didn’t even get to learn what ordinary was. I didn’t even get to leave the building yet. Just a guard duty. At the end of the day I was called to Yvonne’s office and she offered me a position as her personal assistant. One doesn’t easily say no to Yvonne Hartman and the pay the offered was atrociously high, so I accepted at once.”

Though Ianto seemed honest, his explanation made Jack wary. It didn’t sound like the Yvonne Harman to hire someone that quickly.

“Any thoughts as to why she chose you?” Jack asked, choosing to give Ianto the benefit of the doubt. “Your coffee is amazing, but she hired you as her assistant, not her coffee-boy.”

“I have near perfect recall,” Ianto admitted grudgingly. “It’s not something I like to shout off the rooftops. People tend to expect me to know everything once they find out. Or they constantly ask me to recite things like a party trick. They see it as some kind of superpower.” He shrugged. “I just think it’s annoying, really. So I usually don’t make it too obvious.”

“But Hartman found out?”

“It was my own fault. We’d been patrolling her hall mostly, and her assistant had lost her schedule for the day. Since we had been briefed on her activities that day, I wanted to help the poor girl out, but Yvonne quickly realised it had been me. Mostly because I hadn’t just given the girl just the hours and places, but also the descriptions to the letter. Including the typos, because they were so atrocious I couldn’t help but correct them.”

Ianto seemed annoyed with himself, but Jack smiled. Ever since Ianto had started to work for him, reports from the team had been suspiciously clean of typos and now Jack knew who had been cleaning them up. It also explained why Hartman had swept up Ianto so fast. She had always wanted to newest toys, gadgets… To have someone like Ianto by her side must have been a kick to her. He did not blame her for using every advantage to stand her ground in a man’s world, but she often went far beyond that. The Battle of Canary Wharf had been the ultimate sacrifice to pay for those ambitions.

“I’d like to clear you for the field in case we need back-up. I assume you had basic gun training and close combat?” Jack started to take notes as Ianto nodded. “I’ll still need to test you on the gun range before I give you a side arm. Anything else I need to know?”

Relief washed over him as Ianto shook his head. Somehow that small movement of his head had put an end to the whole affair. A nagging voice in the back of his head told Jack that he would not have been able to tell if Ianto had been lying. So much had already been proven. But somehow Jack knew he could trust him. The entire time Ianto had been hiding his girlfriend, there had been a fire in him, a drive that was pushing him forwards. Jack could tell that it was no longer there.

The man was lost. But Torchwood could give him meaning again.

Jack could give him meaning again.

❖

Shot after shot fired into the target and Jack could not stop staring. He’d thought Gwen had been a natural, but this man was truly an exquisite marksman. Jack’s gaze slid over to Ianto’s determined expression and found himself admiring the view. There was no question about giving Ianto a side arm. Jack even had to admit the man was almost a better shot than himself. Of course, his Webley had fifty-first century technology embedded that made sure he could still easily win from the Welshman, but he would never admit that. He tried to find a flaw in Ianto’s technique, any flaw at all, but found none. His stance was perfect, his hold on the gun steady but not cramped, he let the recoil bounce off smoothly. It was almost pornographic to watch the man do something as simple as shooting a gun.

When the sound of gunshots cut off, Jack looked over at the target and was stupefied. He could hardly tell the shots apart, that was how close the marks were. Still, he could tell Ianto had not emptied his clip, so he looked back up to the man, the question ready on his lips.

The expression he saw there, stopped the words coming from his mouth immediately. Ianto was staring in front of him, eyes wide open and panting heavily. His gun still aimed at the target, he stumbled backwards, as if fleeing an invisible assailant, but too scared to do so.

 _Lisa_. The last time he aimed a gun at anyone, he was facing down his girlfriend, or whatever was left of her.

Jack cursed himself for his stupidity and tried to devise the best way of action. Ianto was still holding a loaded gun and despite his impeccable aim, Jack did not want to risk anything in his delirious state.

Just because he knew he would wake up a mere few minutes later, did not mean he liked getting shot at. Moreover, it would make the situation even more complicated than it already was. It had been dangerous enough to let Gwen know his secret.

Slowly, Jack moved towards Ianto, but quickly abandoned his path as it would not be wise to surprise him from behind. Instead, Jack moved inwards from Ianto’s side, making sure Ianto could see him approaching from the corner of his eye. He brought up his hand, slowly moved it into Ianto’s eyesight so as not to startle him, and gently placed it on the hand holding the gun.

That seemed to get his attention.

As Ianto tried to face Jack, his arm moved with him, but Jack held it down with all the force he could muster up.

“It’s not real, Ianto,” Jack tried to reason with him, “you’re safe. It’s over.”

With his free hand Jack turned Ianto’s face to his and stared the man straight in the eyes. “Listen to my voice. She’s not real, she’s not here. It’s just you and me and a gun range. Breathe, Ianto, breathe. Whatever you’re seeing, it’s not real. Look at me, just me.”

Jack heard the clatter as the gun hit the ground and pulled Ianto into his arms. As he clasped his hands around the man’s back, he felt Ianto deflate in his arms. For a moment, he lay still in Jack’s arms, but Jack could tell the man was pushing back small sobs.

When he thought the man to be calmed down enough, Jack led them both away from the range and sat them down on the bench. Ianto looked embarrassed, but no longer in distress.

“You saw her, didn’t you? I’m sorry, I pushed you too back into work too fast.” Jack could not believe he had been so foolish.

“No,” Ianto frowned, but then his eyes lit up in apprehension, “it wasn’t Lisa.” He dropped his head in his hands and fell silent once more. Jack considered asking, but then thought better of it. Eventually, Ianto started talking again.

“I’ve been having nightmares. Not just about Lisa. About all of it. Canary Wharf, the Torchwood Tower, the fire, the screams, the bodies—” Ianto’s voice choked up and tears ran down his cheeks. He put his hands around his knees and started rocking himself. “I can even smell the smoke, the burning flesh, the machinery. The noise was so loud. All over the building, there were conversion units, some converting fully, some only like Lisa. The halls were so full of bodies that I couldn’t get through without having to walk on them. Not over. _On_ them.”

Jack felt his stomach clench and he was glad he hadn’t had lunch yet. He’d known the Battle of Canary Wharf had been bad, but he’d never talked to any survivors. There weren’t many left and most who did survive had chosen Retcon. But this man, he’d been taking care of both his girlfriend and all of their whims, all whilst still dealing with PTSD from one of the most horrifying battles Jack had heard of in his long life.

“We threw everything we had at them, but none of it even made a scratch,” Ianto continued, still rocking in place. “Not the cybermen, not the daleks. When we used any kind of weaponry, it would only ricochet and kill our own. I don’t know what was worse: when I was unarmed or when I picked up a gun and started firing only to see my fellow agents fall down, not knowing if it were my ricocheting bullets that took them down. I felt so useless. They were supposed to be our saving grace, Yvonne’s life’s work. She really believed in it. We all did.”

The sobbing had subsided, but Ianto’s voice was still hoarse. Jack did not know how to console the man, so he just pulled him close and let him find his bearings on his own.

After a few minutes, he felt Ianto pushing him away and he let go. Ianto walked back towards the target and picked up the gun, checking the remainder of his clip.

“Do you mind if I finish this?” Ianto asked and tossed Jack an extra pair of glasses and ear-protection. When Jack nodded his permission, Ianto emptied his clip, just as flawlessly as his first round. There was a glassy look in his eyes as he stared at the target, his gun still held high. Ianto needed this. He needed to feel in control. Though it was not necessary, Jack pushed the button to pull the target closer for inspection when he was done.

As suspected, not a single bullet had missed its mark.

When he turned back towards Ianto, the glassy look had left his eyes and he seemed once again Torchwood’s finest butler. As if nothing had happened.

Jack realised this was Ianto’s method of coping: pushing his feelings down and drowning himself in his work. Keep up a lie for long enough and it becomes the truth. But Jack also knew that never really worked. Not for long. At one point or another, it would all come crashing down again, like it had just a few minutes ago.

Ianto may feel better now, but it was not a healthy coping mechanism.

The worst part about unhealthy coping mechanisms is that people generally don’t want to give them up. Jack had to be careful how to address the issue.

“They clearly trained you well. If we’re ever in a pickle, I know I can count on you, but you know I can’t give you field clearance and I definitely cannot give you a gun.”

Since Ianto seemed receptive so far, Jack dared to push a little further.

“I would also like for you to see a therapist. You’re clearly suffering from PTSD and I don’t—”

“Therapy?” Ianto scoffed. “Look, it’s not that I haven’t considered it myself, even if it was just because I wanted something to help me sleep at night. But I can’t exactly tell them what happened, can I?”

That was indeed not something Jack had considered. It was the one thing on their side, making sure they did not need to constantly surveil everyone they Retconned: even if they broke through the Retcon, who would believe them? He assumed most would not even believe themselves. After all the human race had already encountered, they still did not believe in extra-terrestrial life.

But it did bring them into a bit of trouble right now. Jack knew it was a recipe for disaster if he let Ianto stew in his trauma. They’d already faced one in this very Hub. And even though he didn’t like it, he saw only one other option.

“Would you be open to talking to me instead?” Jack asked.

The incredulous look on Ianto’s face made his feeling about the matter clear as day.

“I know, I’m not your closest friend right now, or probably any time,” Jack said. “But you need to talk to someone and if I’m being honest, I don’t want you to keep working here with this trauma hanging over your head. I may not be a therapist and you’ve proven that I don’t always pay enough attention to the people around me. But I _can_ listen. You can talk to me.” Jack recalled their conversation from the other day. “You talked to me yesterday.”

Ianto smiled. “If I recall correctly, and I always do,” he joked, “you did most of the talking.”

After a bit of scuffing his feet around, he continued: “I guess we could give it a try.”

Jack’s stomach made a tiny somersault. It was exactly the answer he’d hoped for, but he would never have expected Ianto to give in so easily.

Then again, Jack was learning that Ianto never acted as expected.

Together they walked back to the main Hub, where Gwen and Owen were already working, back from their chores. Owen gave them a little nod and returned to yet another autopsy without a word. Gwen seemed to be just about to say something but turned around too.

Proud of them, Jack made a mental note to thank them for their thoughtfulness later. Ianto, however seemed to think now was the better time to thank them and moved towards the espresso-machine. While Jack watched the man use his superpowers on the machine, he noticed the others fail miserably to ignore Ianto. They’d all been deprived of Ianto’s coffee for too long and were basically drooling at the sight. As Ianto brought them their mugs, he was rewarded with a blinding smile from Gwen.

Apparently her restraint could only take so much, because as soon as the mug hit the table, she threw her arms around Ianto in a crushing hug. When she withdrew, she muttered an apology and returned to work, blushing almost feverishly. Jack noticed a faint blush on Ianto’s face as well. Even a hint of a smile.

Owen didn’t say a word and Ianto knew as well as Jack that that was Owen’s way of thanking him. Before Ianto left, Owen put his hand on Ianto’s shoulder, making him startle. Jack watched the exchange between the two men with unease, but his worry proved unnecessary as he watched Ianto’s shoulders visibly relax.

Just as Ianto turned around, the proximity alarms blared through the Hub and Tosh walked through the cog door. She looked at Jack for a second, the question clear in her eyes. As he nodded, she smiled and walked towards Ianto. This time Ianto instigated the hug and whispered something in her ear. Tosh could barely restrain herself as she ran towards the coffee machine where her steaming mug was already waiting for her.

Jack was happy to see his own white and blue striped mug standing next to Tosh’s cup and smiled.

Strange how something as simple as coffee could make everything feel normal again.

Then again, there was nothing simple about Ianto’s coffee.


	5. Small Worlds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ianto goes back to work and tries to navigate working with Jack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I've been absent for a while because of personal issues, but I'm back and will be posting more regularly now.  
> I'm sorry for the wait.  
> Thank you so much for the comments and kudos. They really kept me going as I was almost going to give this fic up. I promise there's much more to come :)

It was a lot easier to get up in the mornings when he had something to get up for, Ianto thought. The past few days, Jack’s visits had become something to look forward to, even if he would never admit to it out loud. At least it had given him a reason to get dressed. Ianto still felt this cheeks burn when he thought back to the moment he’d opened his door half-naked.

There had always been some sexual tension between the two of them. Most of it had been instigated by Ianto in his attempts to worm his way into Jack’s Torchwood. But Jack had played his part in it as well. The many remarks on his suits and his figure had felt awkward at first. Ianto had felt guilty, even just hearing the comments felt like cheating on Lisa. Now, he had to admit that the lack of comments that bordered on harassment was beginning to feel like something was missing.

Ianto had always considered himself to be a very open-minded bloke. His parents may have raised him with every bit of their generation’s prejudice, but times were changing and Ianto was nothing if not adaptive. Still, he’d been grateful to be straight. He couldn’t imagine having to deal with the prejudice every day, coming out to your parents, your friends, people judging you for something you have no control over.

No, Ianto was perfectly straight and glad to be so. His life was complicated enough as it was. And he was certainly not interested in Jack-sleeps-with-anything-with-a-post-code-Harkness. Just because he liked the compliments, did not mean he wanted to take things any further. Some of his mates had experimented a little in college, but he hadn’t felt the need to. And then he’d met Lisa. Definitely straight.

So why did he get so flustered around Jack Harkness?

_Fifty-first century pheromones_ , the man had said.

He knew Jack was a show-off and his impossible tales were just another example of his boasting and theatricality, but sometimes Ianto wondered if there might be some truth to his fantastical tales. It certainly would explain why the man smelled so… inviting. Ianto knew enough about biology to know pheromones could certainly account for his mysterious attraction to the man, but the time-addendum did not make sense to him.

Maybe he had encountered something alien that had influenced him? According to some files in the archives, Jack’s tenure at Torchwood went back quite far. It wouldn’t be too far-fetched to believe some artefact from the fifty-first century had fallen through the rift at some point that had affected him.

Still, the man was his boss and on top of that, Ianto was straight, no matter how curious he was. He took a sip of coffee, hoping the familiar taste would bring his mind back in order, but spat it out right away. A quick glance at the clock told him that he’d been lost in thought for almost 20 minutes. No wonder his coffee had gone cold.

He figured he had just enough time to make a new cup before he had to leave for the Hub. Luckily, he’d woken up earlier than usual, not able to catch sleep again with the nerves of going back to work.

The reunion with the rest of the team after his disastrous breakdown at the gun range had soothed his mind a little, but he was still nerve-wrecked. What if they’d changed their mind? What if they still held a grudge? He wouldn’t hold it against them. It could have easily been them in the morgue instead of Annie and doctor Tanizaki. For a moment he’d thought Jack had died at her hand, but fortunately he’d only been unconscious.

How he’d been able to survive that blast was beyond Ianto. Maybe that fifty-first century thing had something to do with it.

He wondered if he had actually died there for a second there too. He’d woken up to Jack performing CPR on him. At least, he assumed that was what he’d been doing, he couldn’t imagine the man just kissing him back to life, could he? That was too surreal, even for Torchwood.

The memory of Jack’s lips on his certainly did not help to get rid of Ianto’s strange attraction to his boss.

When he’d finished his coffee, he hurried to gather his phone and keys. After one last look in the mirror and a slight adjustment of his tie, he left his flat and headed for the Hub.

❖

When he arrived at the Hub, Ianto realised he had made the mistake of sticking to his old routine. He’d always come in before Jack even got out of his bunker so he could take care of the tasks that required Jack to stay out of sight.

Ianto sighed but got to work just the same. There was plenty to do without having to take care of Lisa.

First order of business was Myfanwy. Due to his suspension, the girl had to miss Ianto for more than a week and he noticed she was quite cross about it. For some reason, she only listened to him. He had been the one to find her after all. Myfanwy did not need to know that the whole reason he’d bonded with her instead of putting her down the moment he saw her—as his original Torchwood training would have recommended—was the ruse to lure in Jack Harkness in order to impress him.

Luckily, Myfanwy’s reasoning, intelligent as she was, did not span that far. Because Ianto was the one to feed her every morning and play some catch with her whenever he had a free minute, she made a point of only listening to him. It was a small point of victory for Ianto that she also liked to provoke Owen by pretending to attack him.

The moment Myfanwy saw Ianto approach with a mutton leg and a bar of dark chocolate, she squealed in delight and swept down to sit obediently at the improvised tray Ianto had provided for her. Usually Ianto did not like to give her chocolate before her meals, but he’d missed her as well so he’d decided to spoil her a little. It was a sign that Ianto had trained her well when she hesitated before picking up the chocolate bar Ianto threw at her. She seemed to ask Ianto for permission, looking at him with her head tilted.

Ianto smiled at her and enjoyed watching her eat her breakfast as neatly as possible. She may just be the easiest in the whole Hub to clean up after.

His next chore was the clutter from the previous day. Usually he would have done this the night before or at least made sure to have it ready to just throw them out. Since he had not been in the day before, or the days before that, he feared for the amount of rubbish he’d have to deal with.

But when he arrived at the waste bins, he was surprised to see all of them empty. Apparently, they had learnt to clean up after themselves. Maybe his suspension might have awoken some good manners in them. He wondered how long they’d let the waste accumulate before the smell had got too bad.

At least they’d had the common sense to take some of his tasks upon themselves. Maybe now they would notice that he really did a lot more than just provide coffee and lunch.

Even the printer had been restocked with paper and the ink levels were nearly full. Ianto decided to keep an eye out for a designated rota that must have reassigned his chores to the team. He could not imagine them somehow taking care of everything spontaneously.

Just as he was starting to wonder if all his tasks would have been taken care of already, he laid eyes on Owen’s autopsy bay. His used instruments from the day before were in the sterilisation unit and the waste bin had been emptied, but there was a stack of reports waiting on his desk. They were supposed to hand in their reports to Jack, but Ianto had made a point of going over every report to correct the mistakes. As archivist he had taken it upon himself to not only file the documents, but also watch over their quality.

He had a suspicion Owen made some mistakes on purpose to mess with Ianto. No one could possibly have passed medical school with such bad grammar. But when he started to read through them, he noticed the significant lack of grammar mistakes and suddenly he felt like he was being coddled.

Sure, it was nice that they seemed to have noticed that he was not just the janitor, but at the same time he hadn’t wanted them to treat him like some fragile piece of glass.

He finished the reports nevertheless, but had considerably less enjoyment in it even though he’d always badgered Owen about his poor grammar. When he was done, he moved on to Tosh’s and Gwen’s stacks that were waiting on their respective desks as he’d suspected. He decided to keep Tosh’s reports for last because he knew Gwen’s would require the most work.

At first, he’d wondered why Gwen had still been a mere constable when she was clearly driven and gifted at detective work. When he’d read her first report, however, he’d seen his answer: she was heavily dyslectic and very self-conscious about it, as he’d found out when he’d asked her. Ianto had made it their little secret and he’d made sure to correct every little mistake before handing her reports to Jack. He wondered if Jack had found out during Ianto’s absence. But judging by the fact that all of her reports were still waiting on her desk, Jack had not seen a single report by Gwen that had not been thoroughly vetted by Ianto. Not all secrets were out on the table then.

At least this was not his secret to keep.

Even though he’d only been gone for a week, there had been so much that could have happened, so much he might have missed. Ianto felt bad about leaving, even if it hadn’t been his choice, and vowed to never complain about Torchwood’s lack of vacations days again. Like Jack had said: once you’re Torchwood, you’re Torchwood for life. Aliens did not take vacation and neither did they.

With the coffee machine purring next to him, he started on Tosh’s reports. By the time he would finish with the paperwork, the coffee would be ready to bring to Jack.

Despite the usual flawless grammar, Ianto frowned at the content. There was nothing wrong with her reports about the field missions they’d had, but there was something about her daily analytics that disturbed him.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he heard and Ianto looked up to see Jack standing in the opening of his office door. Ianto had been so distracted, he hadn’t heard Jack get up from the bunker. He was confused for a moment but then realised Jack was talking about the early hour. They’d discussed this a few days ago and Jack had made it clear that he did not expect him to keep up the ungodly hours he had pulled in the Hub before.

Ianto had countered that Jack spent even more hours at the Hub, but he might as well have been talking to a deaf man.

He could not explain to Jack the reason why he needed to stick to these indeed ungodly hours.

“Neither should you,” Ianto replied, but they both knew they’d both be here tomorrow morning, at the same absurdly early hour.

“What have you got?” Jack asked and moved in closer.

Ianto turned to the computer to pull up the records mentioned in Tosh’s reports. He felt Jack move in closer and put his hand on Ianto’s shoulder. For a second, he tensed up at the touch, but then he realised this was Jack’s way of letting Ianto know that they had moved on. Ianto was not entirely sure he had moved past everything, but he was grateful for Jack’s efforts. And he could not deny there was comfort in Jack’s touch. The kind of comfort that Ianto could not explain.

“Funny sort of weather patterns.”

❖

Despite the loud proximity alert, the Hub felt eerily silent when the team entered the Hub. Ianto had heard everything went down with Jasmine on the comms and was prepared for the chilly demeanour, but it didn’t make it feel any less uncomfortable.

Tosh and Owen picked up their things and left without so much as a word. They all wanted to get out of Jack’s sight as fast as possible. Gwen made a move to talk to Jack, but seemed to decide against it and walked towards the conference room. Ianto did not follow her, but kept an eye out in case she wanted to have a row with Jack. He didn’t know if he would dare to step between them, but he also did not feel that Jack deserved the cold treatment they were giving him.

Jasmine had not wanted to be saved and there was nothing Jack could have done.

To his relief, Gwen was only tidying up the pictures.

He’d just finished his last round through the Hub when they’d returned, and he had nothing left to do. It felt odd to stand idly by, but he also did not feel it was his place to talk to Jack. On the other hand, he did not want the man to be alone tonight.

Over the past week, Jack had held true to his word, arranging some kind of make-shift therapy sessions between the two of them. In reality, it was more of an amicable talk between friends—or whatever they were now—but Ianto felt like these conversations were truly helping.

He still felt like his body was aching all over, like he would never be able to feel anything but pain for the rest of his life. But at least he hadn’t had any panic attacks like the one on the gun range and his nightmares had toned down to a manageable kind. The dreams were still the same, still as vivid, but Jack had helped him to stop them from entering his mind during the day. As long as he only had to endure them at night, Ianto could cope with it and get through the day.

His agitation over his return had proven completely unnecessary as the events with Jasmine had turned their grievances towards Jack. Ianto felt guilty, as if he was somehow responsible for the ardour of their cold shoulder. He wondered if there was something he could do to make up for it.

Gwen had been the one to talk to Jack in his office after Estelle had died. Clearly, the woman must have been a very close friend to see Jack so upset about her death. Ianto had been glad that Jack had someone to talk to just like Jack had been that person for Ianto. He did not feel bad about Jack turning to Gwen to talk instead of him.

Those two had had a connection from the very first moment. She seemed to bring out a better side of him. Ianto had noticed that Jack had changed since he’d hired Gwen. When they’d talked about Jack’s past at Torchwood, he’d said that he’d always wanted to change Torchwood, but truthfully, Ianto thought there was more to it. Ever since they’d hired Gwen, Jack would look at her as if she were the moral high ground, as if she were the image he was building Torchwood after.

But sometimes, Ianto could see something else in Jack’s eyes when he looked at her. There was a sadness in his gaze, not like disappointment, rather like grief. Ianto wondered if Gwen reminded Jack of someone he lost. Someone he loved.

And now Gwen was angry with him and had been treating him like a monster, just like Ianto had after Lisa’s breakout. The difference was that Jack had never cared as much about Ianto’s opinion of him as he did about Gwen’s.

There was a part of Ianto—not his favourite part and definitely not a part that he was proud of—that thought this was what Jack deserved after all. Even though they had mended their relationship and Ianto was truly grateful for Jack’s forgiveness, he could not deny that he was still angry. Jack had apologised for taking him for granted, for not caring enough to ask about his personal life, for giving him the order to kill Lisa himself.

The truth was that Ianto was not really angry about any of that.

There was still one thing Jack had not apologised for and that was the only thing that mattered to Ianto. He knew it was petty to hold it over Jack, but he could not help it.

As the old grudge took over, Ianto decided to leave Jack to his vices and went home. It was not his place to make Jack feel better, even if he had wanted to do so.

And despite his earlier soft spot for the Captain, Ianto did not want to make Jack feel better.

He wanted Jack to suffer.


	6. Once upon a weevil

Four weeks had passed and Jack’s conversations with Ianto felt like they were really getting somewhere. Where, Jack did not know, but Ianto had not had a single breakdown at the Hub for two weeks straight and last week he’d passed his field clearance without a hitch. There was nothing stopping Jack from taking Ianto with them on a rift alert.

So why didn’t he?

He’d seen Ianto's hopeful look every time the rift alert had sounded in the past week and every single time, he’d cast his eyes down in disappointment when Jack did not call on him to join them. The kicked-puppy-behaviour tore at Jack’s heart. He had not even told the rest of the team that he’d cleared Ianto for field work. Jack could only imagine Gwen’s disappointed glare if she knew how he was treating Ianto.

True to his withdrawn nature, Ianto had not brought it up in their conversations, but Jack knew it had to be be troubling him. He seemed eager to leave the Hub and he’d told Jack that he wanted to do more, to make up for the victims he’d caused. But although Ianto seemed ready, Jack was not.

Jack enjoyed his heart-to-hearts with Ianto and he felt he’d learnt a lot about the man, but he could still feel something unspoken between them. He may have been negligent before, but he knew he had good people skills when he put in an effort. It was what had made him such a good Time Agent. His intuition told him Ianto was still holding back. And that intuition was never wrong.

It felt all the more conflicting, because on the surface it seemed like Ianto had been opening up to him. He’d told Jack about his work in London, about meeting Lisa, he’d even talked about the battle of Canary Wharf once or twice. When Ianto got lost in the memories, Jack felt like he could see through Ianto’s façade. No barriers, just Ianto Jones.

But whenever they talked about Lisa and what had gone down at the Hub, Ianto closed off again. Jack could not blame him. The man had lost the only thing that had kept him going that day: hope. Even though Jack knew there was nothing Ianto could have done to reverse the conversion, he also knew how powerful hope could be, however futile it was.

The day they shot the cyberwoman in their basement, was the day they broke Ianto's hope.

It was the day Jack broke Ianto Jones.

Despite the fact that Jack knew his call had been the only right one to make, he felt personally responsible for the state Ianto was in. He knew it must be an endeavour for the man to face the people who’d shot his girlfriend each day and smile while taking care of them. Jack wondered how much of it was a facade.

No matter how well Jack got to know the real Ianto during their little talks, whenever Ianto was at work he kept up the butler persona. There was nothing certain about that Ianto Jones, no way to read him.

So in spite of the progress Ianto had been making, Jack just did not trust the man at work. Not enough to have his back. Not enough to have his team’s back.

The rift alert stirred him from his dilemma and pushed him to action.

Saved by the rift alert.

He rushed out of his office, grabbed his coat and his Webley, and turned to call for Tosh, Owen and Gwen when Ianto appeared.

“Weevil sighting by the docks, sir,” Ianto said.

Jack let out a curse at the inconvenient timing. “Where is the rift alert?” he asked, hoping it was close enough to the docks to catch both flies at once.

“Plas Gwyn Halls of Residence. It’s a University Residency across from the BBC Wales building,” Tosh said, not even bothering to look up from her phone as she sent the info to everyone’s mobile.

That was too far from the docks too tackle both at once.

“How urgent is the weevil sighting, Ianto?” he asked.

“Two girls attacked, both in critical condition. They claimed it was a man in a horror mask, but from their story, it sounds like a particularly aggressive weevil, possibly more than one.”

He couldn’t postpone either of the issues. These were the moments Jack regretted keeping his team so small. He did not like to split up the team, especially with weevils. If anyone had to bite the dust, it had to be him. With the increased weevil activity lately and the violent behaviour he’d noticed among them, Jack was particularly worried about any weevil alert these days. On the other hand, that university building could be crawling with potential casualties if something dangerous had fallen through the rift. Both were equally urgent.

“Allright then, Tosh, Owen and Gwen, you take the SUV and take a look at that university residency. Ianto, you and I have a date with a weevil.”

Jack tried to ignore the shocked faces as he called Ianto’s name, but Ianto seemed the most surprised of them all. Wasn’t this what he had wanted when he’d asked Jack to retake the field clearance test?

As surprised as he was, Ianto was the first to recover and picked up the gun Jack had given him after his clearance. That seemed to shock the others from their surprise as they scrambled for their own gear, eyes still locked on the strange team-up of their boss and the tea-boy. If only they knew how much more Ianto was capable of, they would not be so confused. Or maybe they did not understand why Jack trusted him?

The answer was that Jack did not understand it either.

❖

The short walk towards the docks was awkward and silent.

Jack could tell that Ianto was nervous, but he couldn’t let the man know that he was just as nervous himself. It would not be a show of good leadership skills after all.

Ianto’s hands were trembling and he caught the man repeatedly checking his clip and safety. Jack tried to push his doubts about Ianto aside and focus on his superior marksman skills. He hoped that whatever Ianto was holding back, was something personal and would not interfere on the job. There was no point in worrying about irrelevant personal issues when facing a weevil.

No matter how many times Jack faced these creatures, they were always dangerous.

It only took one careless moment, one second of distraction, and you had your guts not the wrong side of your skin. He could easily recover from the wounds they inflicted, but he would rather not spill his secret to Ianto. Just because Gwen had taken it so well, did not mean he suddenly wanted everyone to know. Least of all Ianto.

Just when he was about to stop Ianto and calm down his nerves before they got to the scene, he noticed three shadows behind the corner and motioned for Ianto to stay behind him.

He pulled out his Webley and slowly approached the corner of the building to take a look.

The intel had been wrong or the weevil had received some company, because there were three weevils running about and he suddenly felt gravely outnumbered. A tag-team of two against one weevil was tight enough, but to face three weevils at once with an inexperienced partner? That was asking for trouble.

To make matters worse, one of the weevils was coming their way and they would not be able to run off fast enough.

Jack motioned for Ianto to take cover behind the other corner, further away from the weevils. Inexperienced as he may be, Ianto was a good shot and Jack wanted him as far away from the action as possible. If anyone had to be mauled by the weevils, Jack could take it. Unlike Jack, Ianto would not be able to come back from that.

With the element of surprise on his side, Jack was able to catch the first weevil off guard and it was easy to take him down with one shot to the head.

 Under different circumstances, Jack would have tried to take them all alive, but being outnumbered did not leave him that choice.

Now they were worn to two against two and their odds were a little more to Jack’s liking. With Ianto taking cover for him, Jack might even be able to overpower one or two and take them home alive.

Jack took out his anti-weevil spray and approached the two weevils who were already in a defensive stance. Without looking back, he motioned towards the weevil on the right, hoping Ianto would take the hint and create a distraction for him. He could only handle one weevil at a time.

Instead of cover fire, Jack heard a loud stumble behind him. Despite the obvious danger in front of him, Jack turned his head and saw two more weevils, attacking Ianto.

Ianto’s gun was on the ground, too far for him to reach, while the man was trying to wrestle the weevils off before they were able to get their teeth in him. Jack took aim to take them down, but lost his grip on his Webley when he was thrown on the ground by a weevil coming from his side.

In the middle of his wrestle, Jack tried to get a glimpse of how Ianto was doing, but all he could see were several pairs of limbs, trying to claw at his neck and torso.

Where the hell did all these weevils come from and when did they learn to ambush people like this?

There was no time to dwell on the issue as Jack feared for Ianto’s life. He was able to throw one weevil off him and took advantage of the commotion that it caused to look behind him.

Ianto was gone.

The two weevils that had attacked Ianto were lying on the ground, unconscious.

_“One day, I’ll have the chance to save you and, and I’ll watch you suffer and die.”_

The words Ianto had spat at him sounded through his head as Jack took in the scene.

Ianto had left him behind.

Just like he had promised Jack.

There were at least seven weevils attacking him right now and his Webley was nowhere in sight. Jack closed his eyes and waited for the fatal strike to take him to the darkness he knew so well.

He only hoped the weevils would leave his body alone once he was dead, so he could revive in piece.

But the darkness did not come.

When Jack opened his eyes, he became more aware of his surroundings. The weevils cowered away from him. They had never done that before, had they? That was when he heard the sound of an engine approaching. A car? Jack did not know where that car was suddenly coming from or who was driving it, but he gratefully took advantage of the distraction and rose to his feet.

The red Audi was speeding in his direction, skilfully dodging trashcans and crates on its way. The weevils started to panic and were running into each other in their panic. They clearly did not care about Jack anymore, so he snuck behind a dumpster and hoped that whoever was driving that car would be smart enough not to get out of it.

With a screeching halt, the car backed into the alley and stopped right in front of the dumpster Jack was hiding behind. Terrified for the mystery driver, Jack got to his feet.

“Get in!” he heard and he did not need to be told twice. Jack almost ripped the car door off its hinged in his haste to get to safety.

Barely a second after he’d got in his seat, the car rushed forward, leaving the weevils behind them, confused and angry. Some were even trying to run after them.

Jack burst out in laughter as the adrenaline was still rushing through him, searching for a release.

But his laughing fit came to a quick end when he saw the man behind the wheel.

“Ianto?” Jack asked, dumbfounded.

If not for the repeated glances in his rearview mirror and the insane speed, Ianto would have seemed to be taking a peaceful drive through the countryside, his calm attitude behind the wheel contrasting so heavily with the situation they were in.

“You thought I left you behind, didn’t you?” Ianto asked without looking up.

Jack did not know what to answer.

“I don’t blame you. I did promise to do so, after all,” Ianto said. “I admit, I thought about it. But I never would have let you die like that. Or any other way.”

Feeling guilty over doubting Ianto, Jack looked down at his feet, not sure what to say. Even though Ianto was not even looking at him, he could feel the burning shame rising to his cheeks. The dry matter-of-fact tone hurt even more than the words themselves. Ianto had expected Jack’s distrust.

“I should not have doubted you,” Jack said, “you did… surprisingly well actually.”

Ianto chuckled.

“That’s quite the understatement,” said Ianto.

“I didn’t take you for the boasting type.” Jack looked up at Ianto, admiring the professional manner he was still upholding.

Damn, that man knew how to make professional look hot.

“I saved your life. I think there is no boasting in admitting that.” Underneath the professional attitude, Ianto sure seemed to enjoy his moment of glory.

“I guess that’s true,” Jack nodded, “I suppose I ought to thank you then. Did you have anything in mind?”

He hadn’t meant for the leering tone, but the banter between them had felt so comfortable that it had slipped out before Jack realised what he’d said.

But Ianto did not seem to mind, judging by the twitch of his lips.

“Well, since saving your life was such an exhausting task, I would not mind if _someone_ were to suggest taking over cleaning the weevil cells for a night.”

Jack smiled. They seemed to have recovered their footing and maybe, just maybe, things might return to the way things had been between them.

Without the cyber-girlfriend in the basement though.

“But I know that if I were to let you clean the cells, I’d have to do it all over again anyways, so that wouldn’t help,” Ianto continued. “How about you promise me to actually let me join you on field calls and not just as a last option?”

At last, Ianto turned his head to look at Jack, but now Jack wished he hadn’t. As the shame once again kicked in, he tried to come up with an excuse to explain why he’d held Ianto at bay for so long.

But he’d evaded Ianto for long enough now.

“I guess I wasn’t as subtle as I thought then, was I?” Jack asked. Ianto’s scoff told him enough.

“You’re right, that was not fair of me. I suppose I just—”

“You didn’t trust me,” Ianto completed his sentence. “I suppose you had your reasons. Like I said, I don’t blame you, I just hope it will change at some point.” He looked up at Jack expectantly.

Since Ianto had clearly proven himself in the field, Jack saw no excuses to exclude him in the future.

“I promise I will not sideline you anymore.” He still could not shake the feeling that Ianto was still hiding, but now at least he knew it—whatever _it_ was—would not be a problem professionally.

Ianto nodded and pulled the car over to the side. With the push of a button he opened the glove compartment and pulled out the gun that was hidden inside.

“How did you know— Wait, did you steal this car?” Jack asked.

“Are you really going to get hung up on semantics?” Ianto replied with an eye-roll. “I took initiative and presumed saving your life might just outweigh borrowing a car. And I know there’s a gun in the glove compartment because I put it there before coming to your rescue, sir.” He added another eye-roll on his use of the honorary title. “Do we wait for the others to finish their rift call before going back in?”

It took a few seconds to register what Ianto had said as Jack was largely distracted by the proficient manner Ianto was checking his gun and clip, his fingers handling the weapon with skilful movements as he was already walking towards dumpster Jack had hidden behind.

“You want to go back in there? Ianto, there were at least seven or eight weevils. I like your confidence and I definitely appreciate your _initiative_ , but there is no way we can take out that many weevils with just the two of us.”

Ianto looked back at him, but did not stop walking. Concerned that Ianto might actually try to take on the weevils on his own, Jack rushed after him.

“While you were hiding behind the dumpster, I ran over at least four weevils. I already took out two before coming for the car, so there will likely not be that many weevils left. I have a gun and the advantage of the distance. All you need to do is keep a look-out so we don’t get ambushed again.”

“And who’s the boss again?” Jack might be in utter awe of the efficiency Ianto portrayed, but he was still the one in charge, wasn’t he?

Ianto just smiled at him and motioned with his gun to stand back and keep watch.

Maybe Jack should start to wear a suit like Ianto. It definitely gave him good posture and authority.

And Ianto looked damn fine in them too.

❖

Their arrival at the Hub was deadly silent. The stiffness in Ianto’s shoulders was the only thing attesting for his nervousness, his face as unreadable as ever.

They had rounded up the remaining weevils without a hitch, working like teammates who had been working together for ages. Jack had barely needed to do anything and had taken the chance to assess Ianto in a real field environment. He’d had to admit that the man was quick on his feet. Quicker than Jack had been.

But as well as the weevil hunt had ended, just as awkward was the ride home. Despite their agreement on future assignments, Jack could sense the weight of whatever Ianto was holding back.

Gwen might call him woefully obtuse at times, but Jack was not completely blind.

It was not his fault that Ianto was so damn unflappable.

Their communication had always been like this. They said what needed to be said and—most of the time—they understood what was left unsaid. At least, Ianto understood. During their semi-mandatory talks, Jack had seen a different side of Ianto, a side that told stories with heartfelt emotion. His Ianto was willing to share his most personal thoughts.

At work, however, Ianto was the perfect butler. It was as if he was part of the Hub, always there when you needed him, never a disturbance.

Jack wished he could see more of the informal Ianto he’d come to know.

He’d got rather attached to that Ianto. _His Ianto._

Gwen and Tosh were already at their workstations, Jack assumed Owen was busy in the autopsy bay on the backlog of weevils from the previous days. Jack suppressed a chuckle as he imagined Owen’s reaction at the seven body bags currently still lying in the SUV.

Both women looked up at Jack expectantly. Gwen’s eyes had that typical look of her bleeding heart pouring out. Clearly she had expected something to go wrong. Jack could not exactly blame her since he’d assumed the exact same thing.

“Ianto, get Owen to help you bring in the body bags from the SUV. Tell him I said so, he doesn’t need to nag about it.”

With a nod, Ianto left for the autopsy bay after discarding his gun in the armoury.

Reluctantly, Jack turned towards the two women staring at him like he was holding the juiciest bit of gossip.

“Anything interesting at the residence?” Jack asked, avoiding the elephant in the room for now.

Gwen and Tosh looked at each other, trying to figure out whether to press for information on his outing with Ianto.

“Nothing much, just some tech. Looks like a futuristic computer,” Gwen said, but the questions were still obvious in her eyes. That woman never let anything go and he knew exactly who to expect in his office within the hour. That was why he hired her after all.

“Oh this is nothing like any computer I have seen. It would be an insult to compare it to our primitive technology. This is a piece of art with—”

“Yes Tosh, you can geek all over it as much as you want, there is no need to do it out loud though,” Owen snarked when he and Ianto passed by them on their way to the garage.

Jack smiled at the customary banter. His eyes roamed over to Ianto who was walking steadily with the best poker-face Jack had ever seen.

After seeing Ianto in so many new ways, it was only getting increasingly difficult to get a read on the man. The more Jack got to know him, the more he realised just how good Ianto was at hiding and pretending.

Satisfied that the rift alert had not been dangerous after all, Jack strolled towards his office, already dreaming of Ianto’s next coffee-round. He really needed the caffeine-fix to deal with the inevitable inquisition from Gwen.

“How did the weevil-hunt go?”

Speak of the devil and she shall appear.

Jack motioned for Gwen to close the door behind her.

“Remarkably well. I have to admit, I was pleasantly surprised by Ianto’s abilities. The weevils however, were just as surprising, but not even a little bit pleasant,” Jack said. “There were at least eight weevils out there that I could see, probably more, but I was a bit too busy fighting for my life to count how many weevils came out to play. If not for Ianto, I would have been shredded meat.”

“Ianto? He saved you?”

He probably shouldn’t get angry ant Gwen for saying exactly what he had been thinking not so long ago, but he also felt the need to stick up for the man who saved his life after all. Even though he couldn’t really die. But Ianto did not know that.

“It is time you all put what happened with his girlfriend behind us and treat him like the valuable member of the team that he is.”

“I’m sorry, Jack,” Gwen at least had the decency to look ashamed of her doubt in Ianto, “it’s just that you never let him join us and even seemed to dodge him. I figured you did not trust him either.”

Apparently Ianto had not been the only one to notice.

“I know I have not treated Ianto correctly, trust me, he already gave me the dressing down. But that was on me, not him. He made a mistake, but we all have. You are not an exemption. No,” Jack stopped Gwen before she could interrupt him, “I’m not calling you out for anything, that is exactly my point. Water under the bridge. He is Torchwood, he is— He’s my friend.”

It took him a few tries to get the word out, but as soon as he did, Jack knew it felt right.

Ianto was his friend.

And Jack may have been blaming Ianto for holding out on him, but he’d been hiding something from Ianto as well.

“You should have seen him, he looked positively edible, all James Bond-ish,” Jack said. “Honestly, if I could have, I would have died without him there. Damn resourceful too: ran them over with a car that he stole. Did you know he could steal a car?”

“At this point I’m starting to think he knows pretty much everything,” Gwen laughed.

Jack nodded. “That’s probably a wise assessment. Never underestimate the butler.”

“Never underestimate the butler. We should put that on a T-shirt.” Ianto poked his head around the office door. “Sorry, didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but Owen needs you in the autopsy bay and Tosh wants to talk about some technological mumbo-jumbo. Well, she called it a few other names, but I stopped listening as soon as I wasn’t sure she was speaking English anymore.”

“Right, let Tosh know I’ll be with her as soon as I’m finished with Owen.” Jack knew Gwen wanted to know more about what went down at the docks, but he also had a team to run.

Before he left the office, Jack turned to Ianto and asked discreetly, “Are we still on for our talk tonight? There is something I would like to talk about.” Het got a confused look in return, but there was no time to explain, definitely not in front of Gwen.

Jack trusted Gwen with a lot of things, he’d trusted her with his biggest secret of all. But his after-hours talks with Ianto were not really his secret to tell. It wasn’t even a secret to begin with, but Jack knew Ianto would be embarrassed if anyone found out.

Ianto nodded and Jack left the office to find Owen.

Hopefully he had found something that might point to why the weevils were acting so strangely and aggressively.

❖

After a long conversation with Tosh about the 42nd-century computers, Jack was relieved to close the door to his office and finally have some time to himself. The eventful weevil-hunt with Ianto had tired him out and they were still no closer to figuring out why the weevils were acting out of character. There had been nothing out of the ordinary in the weevils’ bodies Owen had examined. Jack had been so focused on Ianto and redefining their working relationship, that he’d been neglecting the weevil case. For as long as Jack could remember, there had always been a certain logic to the weevils’ behaviour.

Weevils stuck to the sewers by nature, where they were isolated from humans. In Jack’s experience, weevils did not tend to seek out human contact and were only violent when they accidentally encountered humans. Only the odd weevil now and then got lost from the herd and attacked people at random. Every single time they had behaved differently, there had been an external source influencing them. What they were doing down in the sewers, was still a mystery to Jack, but as long as they did not bother them, Jack didn’t see a reason to destabilise the situation. If it came down to a war with the weevils, Torchwood was gravely outnumbered. They’d been counting their blessings and hunting down the few stray weevils.

The recent attacks and gatherings of weevils closer to the city population worried Jack.

He was going through the reports of the day when he heard the knock on his office door. Despite the door being ajar, Ianto always knocked politely even though everyone else would just barge in.

“Come in, Ianto,” Jack said while he skimmed over the rest of the pages. He’d already read Gwen’s and Tosh’s reports, so Owen’s would only be a brief summary of the others’ reports. From the corner of his eye he noticed Ianto take a seat and clasp his hands in front of him.

“I suppose I owe you an apology,” Jack started and he put aside the useless report from Owen. He knew Ianto had checked it over already.

“I don’t understand, what exactly are you apologising for?” Ianto asked, that sneaky smile set sturdily on his lips. For such a quiet, invisible man during workhours, he sure liked to put Jack on the spot on a friendly basis.

“I should not have doubted you,” Jack admitted, “but most of all, I sure as hell should never have sidelined you. As a matter of fact, I probably should promote you to some leading field function.”

Ianto’s chuckle resonated in the room and almost palpably made Jack smile. “I don’t think Gwen’s or Owen’s egos could handle that. I’m happy where I am, in the shadows. Just don’t sideline me anymore, please?”

Jack took a long, hard look at Ianto, trying to get a read on the man, through the professionally crafted mask on his face. Why would he want to remain on the lowest position in the team, the one the others mocked? Why wouldn’t he jump on any occasion to make fun of Owen? He usually always took any opportunity to do so.

“If that’s what you want, I guess promotions are not supposed to be a punishment, so I won’t _burden_ you with it.” It did not make Jack happy and it certainly did not take away the doubts that still lingered, but Ianto had more than proven his loyalties today.

There was no doubt in Jack’s mind that Ianto was still holding something behind, whether is was personal or work-related. But if today had taught him anything, it was that he could trust Ianto. And the only way to truly apologise for doubting Ianto and sidelining him, was to trust him now.

“Are we okay now?”

Ianto looked confused at Jack’s question. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

“You’re not still angry about how I treated you the past week?” Jack asked.

Ianto sighed, but did not take his eyes off Jack's. “You’ve apologised, we’ve settled the situation, and I trust you’ll be true to your word. What more could I possibly ask from you?”

“I don’t know,” Jack answered. “Is there something you still need from me, Ianto?”

Both men knew there was no innuendo in the question, but the tension in the office rose to boiling level nevertheless.

Ianto remained silent for a moment, breathing heavily until he straightened his back and deadpanned, “Nothing you can do, sir. Do you need anything else for the night?”

And with those words, Jack knew that his friend had left the room, replaced by the butler.

Someday he would like to see both versions of Ianto at the same time.

“No, thank you Ianto.”

Ianto nodded and left the room without a word. The only thing that differed from the old-fashioned butlers Jack had known back in the days was a tiny bow.

Jack twirled around in his chair and reminisced about the first time he’d met Ianto.

Funny how weevils had been involved back then too…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try to update twice a week, hopefully every friday and monday.


	7. Countrycide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ianto's diary fragments regarding Countrycide

_November_ _15, 2006_

_I know it was only yesterday when I wrote about regaining Jack’s trust, but I was still surprised to hear him ask for me to join the team to the Brecon Beacons._

_I suppose part of me didn’t want to believe Jack. It was easier when we were still both holding an equal sort of resentment. Now that he seems to have completely forgiven me, I feel like I’m betraying him all over again. Because I cannot close this chapter as easily as he did. I couldn’t, even if I wanted to._

_I know it’s petty and unfair of me to still blame him, but I cannot help it._

_When he still treated me like a traitor, I felt like my resentment was somewhat justified. Now, I don’t know what to feel. Part of me wants to hate and resent him, like I still feel I have the right to. Part of me feels like he’s done enough to make up for it. And if I’m fully honest, part of me cares about hum, I think._

_If I’d read this entry about a month ago — and working for Torchwood, that thought is not at all as weird as it ought to be — I would never have believed my eyes._

_Truth be told, I never felt like I was betraying anyone. I had never sworn any allegiance to them, never made any promises. Not like I did to Lisa. Not like I did to Yvonne. In fact, I still felt more allegiance towards Yvonne, even after everything that happened because of her._

_But now, I think I’ve seen a different side of Jack, of all of them. Or maybe that side has always been there and I was just too stubborn to notice it. Lisa always did say I am a bit set in my ways. It’s difficult for me to change a first impression. And the stories at Torchwood One about Jack were plenty colourful to leave quite the first impression._

_Jack is different from what I thought him to be. Yes, he’s definitely still an arrogant prick sometimes, but he’s a good leader. And professionally, I suppose he’s the right kind of arrogant, like a leader should be. He knows what he’s doing, most of the time, and we trust him for it. But, as I’ve discovered recently, he doesn’t hold all the answers. And more importantly, he’s keenly aware of it. I think that is an important thing to know as a leader. Yvonne forgot that part._

_It’s only logical that he doesn’t share those insecurities with the rest of us. We are supposed to trust him blindly, after all. Or at least, Owen and Tosh do. Gwen is the only one who questions him._

_Maybe that’s exactly why he hired her._

_But he doesn’t share his personal feelings with her. I don’t think so at least. They do have a lot of talks in private. And the others aren’t aware of our little ‘therapy sessions’, as far as I’m aware of. So maybe I just don’t know that they are just as close. Maybe I’m not the only one he talks to._

_Still, it doesn’t feel like that._

_Or maybe I just want to believe that this is something just between the two of us._

_The past week, I feel like we’ve gotten closer. Except during work hours, where he pulled back, like he still didn’t trust me. Well, yesterday proved he did still not trust me._

_Yesterday also changed that._

_I think._

_At least, today might have proven that he’s chosen to trust me now._

_There have been strange disappearances in the Brecon Beacons lately and Jack wants to check it out. Actually, there is nothing strange about these disappearances, at least not the usual Torchwood kind of ‘strange’. And the rift doesn’t even span that far, so I don’t quite understand why Jack wants to invest such a large expedition for s simple case of missing people._

_I suspect he means to have a sort of team-building type of get-away._

_Still, I’m a bit nervous._

_This will be the test, I know it. Jack said it was no such thing, he said he has no more doubts, but I don’t believe him._

_After tomorrow, I’ll either have proven that I can handle the Torchwood fieldwork, or I won’t._

_I’m not quite sure what kind of entry the next one will be, but I’m strangely looking forward to it._

 

❖

 

_November_ _16, 2009_

_Whatever I could possibly have expected to happen today, it could never have been anywhere near to the truth._

_People are atrocious._

_I suppose we all are, in a way, but today I’m pretty sure I met the worst of the worst._

_I’ll give a more detailed description tomorrow, because I’m too tired and literally to beat to do so now._

_But I needed to get this off my chest._

_When Tosh and I were captured, I saw the same look in Tosh’s eyes that I recognised from Jack. They like this._

_No matter how atrocious, no matter how vile, they like the hunt. The danger. The heroics, I suppose._

_The whole trip back home, all I could think of was: “How do they get up each morning and do the same again?”_

_If this is what fieldwork is like every day, why would they possibly voluntarily do it again?_

_I don’t think I can ever go with they again._

_Even just going back the the Hub seems impossible right now._

_Jack was worried about me when he dropped me off, kept asking if he could stay over even though Owen had cleared me as “passable as healthy enough to not die in his sleep” (his exact words). I even believe his intentions were ‘pure’ (or as pure as they can get with Jack) when he offered to stay and sleep on the couch in case the pain got worse or something like that._

_But I couldn’t stand seeing him tonight. I couldn’t stand having him anywhere near me._

_Not knowing what I know now._

_Knowing that he ENJOYS this kind of thing._

_Doesn’t that make them just as bad?_

 

❖

 

~~_November 16_ ~~ _November 17, 2009_

_I think I understand._

_It’s 4am, I should be fast asleep after everything they put me through and especially after Owen’s ‘good stuff’. Yet somehow I’m wide awake._

_Because I understand it now._

_I understand why they do it._

_~~And I’m afraid.~~   Yes, I’m afraid that I like it too._


	8. Greeks bearing gifts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ianto talks to Jack about his actions towards Tosh in Greeks bearing Gifts...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the delay. I started a new job in august, scooping ice all day and my wrist was waay too overtaxed to write anything. And by the time my wrist got used to the work, I got a throat infection, keeping me in bed when not at work. So I wasn't able to stick to my schedule.  
> I'll update the next chapters as soon as possible, but I can't promise any schedule, since I'm not capable to stick to it anyway :)

Jack hadn’t felt this guilty since damning little Jasmine to the faeries. He knew sending Tosh’s girlfriend into the sun was probably a lot more cruel than what Ianto would have come up with. There was a reason Ianto was in charge of clean-ups. That man truly knew how to make people disappear, to the point where Jack should probably be terrified of Ianto.

But it had been the only possible decision. Jack was sure of it. He’d seen the scenario play out too many times and too many times he’d failed to make the hard call. It was his job as their leader to be the monster.

Ianto’s words were far behind them, but they were still fresh in Jack’s memory. Was that how they all thought of him? _A monster, worse than anything locked up down there._

His hands fidgeted around his liquor cabinet, trying to come up with an excuse to open it. It was only a matter of time until Gwen would be standing in his office with a full-fledged dressing-down and he wasn’t sure he could handle that at the moment. He settled for a cold mug of coffee that Ianto hadn’t cleaned up yet. Usually Ianto never let any less-than-perfect coffees behind, but today Jack was happy that Ianto had been too busy making up stories to distract the press from the unnatural storms.

The coffee was nearly undrinkable — even Ianto’s coffee wasn’t exactly enjoyable after being left out for almost a full day — but it was exactly what Jack needed. Penance was the only way Jack knew how to get over the guilt that always came with sacrifices.

Sagged down in his chair, he looked over the Hub. The lights were still on, but there was no one in sight. The desks were empty, which meant Gwen had been gone long enough for Ianto to have cleaned up already. Jack could not decide whether he was happy not to see Gwen after the day they’d had. She was probably too angry with him.

Ianto turned around the corner just as Jack's eyes were wandering over to his cabinet again. They’d agreed that there would be no point in Ianto staying those crazy hours in the Hub now that he didn’t have a cyber-girlfriend to take care of, but the very first day Ianto had returned, Jack hadn’t noticed a difference. Maybe Ianto was just like Jack. Maybe this was the way Ianto worked through his guilt.

The extra tipping in take-outs hadn’t escaped Jack’s notice either.

With the distraction of watching Ianto work, Jack slowly began to relax. The clean and professional manner in which Ianto worked when he thought no one was watching, was the perfect way to wind down after a stressful day. There was something trance-like about it. He suspected it was the same way for Ianto. And it didn’t hurt that he was damn nice to look at.

But the dream was quickly disrupted when Ianto suddenly walked towards Jack’s office. He’d been staring at Ianto for longer than he’d meant to. Now he had to find a way to quickly hide the fact that he’d been staring at the man for the past hour.

Jack shuffled around some stacks of paper to look busy as Ianto entered the office. A single raised eyebrow told Jack that he shouldn’t have bothered. Of course, Ianto knew exactly what each of these stacks were for, better than Jack.

“You were the last one I expected to see tonight,” Jack said, trying to distract Ianto, but also because it was the truth. Their _therapy sessions_ — as Ianto had called them — hadn’t been mandatory for over a week. They still talked rather often, but after the day they’d had, he hadn’t expected Ianto to drop by.

“It’s not unusual for me to be the last one at the Hub, save for you,” Ianto deadpanned, but he looked more uncomfortable than Jack was used to. Was he angry?

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Jack sighed, too tired to play their banter-games. He’d never received a dressing-down from Ianto, but he had a suspicion he was about to experience it. Ianto knew exactly what Tosh was going through, having seen his girlfriend shot in front of him. His girlfriend killed _by Jack_ in front of him.

“You want to be alone and sulk for the rest of the night,” Ianto nodded. “But I won’t let you. At least not before I’ve said what I need you to hear.”

“I guess I deserve that.” Jack prepared himself for the worst. Ianto might be quiet and timid, but now he knew even Ianto could explode in that truly Welsh manner he’d seen so often in Gwen. “Bring it on, Ianto, remind me how horrible I am, the biggest monster of them all.”

“Yes, you are a monster, but so am I.”

That did not sound like the reprimand he’d expected.

“So is everyone on the team,” Ianto continued. “Everyone is capable of the worst, when it comes down to the right circumstances. Or the wrong ones, I guess. If the Brecon Beacons taught me anything, that’s probably it. And I was not any better in making decisions as we both know. I understand that now.”

Ianto walked towards Jack and sat down on the desk, looking down at his fidgeting hands.

“I didn’t say anything back then, because we weren’t exactly on the right speaking terms yet. Or maybe because I wanted you to feel the guilt. But perhaps I should have said it. If you want to talk about cruelty, if you want to talk about wrong things, let’s go back to Jasmine. Letting the Faeries take Jasmine, that was wrong. She was just a child, no matter how mature. She deserved more time, more chances to reconsider. She didn’t know what she was consenting to. It was wrong. On every level. And it was your call.”

Jack opened his mouth to defend himself, but Ianto didn’t let him get any further than that.

“But it wasn’t a wrong _decision_. I need you to know that. It was cruel, it certainly wasn’t right, but it wasn’t wrong either. Sometimes there just are no right decisions. Should you have done something better? Yes. Could you have done something better? No, Jack, no one could have. Maybe your Doctor could have. Don’t give me that look, the Doctor was the first thing every Torchwood employee learnt about in London. And Yvonne could never shut up about how you betrayed Torchwood by defending the Doctor each time she brought it up. So yes, I know about your Doctor. But your Doctor wasn’t there. And he’s not here now. He’s not the one standing guard by the rift, down to sleeping in the Hub, holding every nightshift to give us a chance to sleep. He’s not the one out in the field at the most godforsaken hours of the night. You are, Jack.”

Ianto’s piercing eyes kept Jack from replying. His eyes always could do that. They either brought out to corniest one-liners from Jack or they made him freeze. This time it hadn’t even been necessary because Ianto’s words alone had already incapacitated Jack. Ianto was the last one he’d expected to say these words to him. Ever.

“I know you think that you had no choice in leading Torchwood, but that’s not true. You could have left. Especially knowing the traumatic experience that landed you the job, you could have left. You chose to stay. You choose to stay every day. You are our leader out in the field, making the hard calls. You asked me if I was willing to come back to Torchwood. To be honest, I wasn’t sure I was willing to work _for you._ I came back for Torchwood. And over time, I learnt that there is no difference. _You_ are Torchwood. And that is why I stay. Because I know that I can trust you to make the decisions we are not capable of making. If that makes you a monster, so be it. I’d choose a monster like you over a leader like Yvonne was. Because I know that, at the end of the day, I can rely on you. We all rely on you, Jack. Even when we want to be angry at you. Especially when we want to be angry at you. Because we are not really angry with you. We are angry at the world and you let us take it out on you.”

Ianto stood up and walked out the door as if he hadn’t just shaken up Jack’s world like no one had before. Well, maybe the Doctor had come close.

In the door opening, Ianto turned around one more time.

“Don’t think that it goes unnoticed. I notice everything,” Ianto winked.

Jack’s eyes were glued to Ianto’s retreating back, this time for a whole different reason than usual. A lonesome tear fell down his cheek, but it was not in shame or guilt as he had expected the day to end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's a much shorter chapter than usual, but we're rounding up the story so the next chapters will probably be a little shorter as well.  
> As always, feel free to comment, as your comments have got me back to writing even though I'm still not quite completely healed from my throat infection :)


	9. Broken

Sweat trickled off Ianto’s forehead as he kept guard and waited for Jack to round the block from his side. If he wouldn’t arrive within 5 minutes, weevils must have caught up with him and Ianto would have to come to Jack’s. Again.

Despite everyone working full-time on the weevil-case, no one had even the slightest idea why they were behaving increasingly strange. Ianto had been providing everyone with various blends of coffee, but even that became quite dull. There was nothing to do for him at the Hub, so he joined Jack on as many weevil hunts as possible. Of course, there might have been another reason, but to hell if he would tell anyone.

Hunting weevils had become second nature to Jack and Ianto, nothing like the mess they’d almost made the first time around. They still tried to keep as many alive as possible, but with them attacking in increasingly large groups and with unusually skilful tactics, it became impossible to do so.

Meanwhile, Tosh, Owen and Gwen were trying their hardest to figure out what was driving the weevils. Owen had performed more autopsies in the past week than he usually performed in the average year. Or so Ianto had deduced from the archives since Owen had been working there, which also told Ianto that Owen was actually a rather productive doctor in comparison with his predecessors. That small discovery had earned him some extra biscuits. The prat hadn’t even noticed, as if he hadn’t expected any different treatment in Ianto’s daily treatment.

Tosh on the other hand had thanked Ianto time and again for his diligent provision of caffeine during her long hours behind her screens. Ianto had turned over his project in the hope that it might help her decode the weevils’ behaviour. Ever since his arrival and all the more after Lisa’s death, Ianto had been classifying the archive so that it could actually serve as such in this kind of investigations instead of a dump to store everything that wasn’t dangerous enough to warrant a spot in Jack’s vault. But Tosh was still going through the first pages of a very long list and was slowly losing hope to ever find anything at all.

Since Ianto and Jack had noticed that the weevils were forming some sort of hierarchy, Gwen had taken it upon herself to look for patterns in their behaviour. Ianto wasn’t sure what that would accomplish, but he suspected she felt just as useless as he did.

What good would coffee do when weevils were trying to take over the world?

So Ianto had joined Jack in a team-up to buy the team some time to figure out what was going on.

It had been a week since Ianto had spoken his mind to Jack after he sent Tosh’s alien girlfriend into the sun and they hadn’t spoken about it since. Ianto could feel it lingering between them though, as if Jack wanted to say something about it, but didn’t dare to.

He’d also caught Jack looking at him differently. Ianto had got used to Jack’s leering eye, but lately Jack looked more angry or worried. He hadn’t figured out which one it was yet.

Jack jumped from behind the corner and didn’t stop running as he yelled “Take cover, I’ve got about five of them at my heels.”

“Take cover?” Ianto laughed, “What, are they going to throw some rocks—”

“No, apparently they’ve picked up on firearms.” Jack pushed him behind a billboard with an endorsement for Harold Saxon and crouched down beside him.

“Firearms? Where the hell did they get firearms? This is not America, I’m pretty sure you have to be quite human to purchase a gun around here,” Ianto exclaimed.

“Do I look like I know?” Jack grumbled in response.

“Well, you always act like you know everything, so I’ve come to assume— Cachu!” Ianto exclaimed as he saw the large group of weevils storming their way. “I thought you said there were five of them. This is at least ten!”

“Well I could have stopped to get a more accurate count, but I was a little too busy running for my life,” Jack yelled back while he took out too weevils at once using his Webley and a well-placed elbow at the same time.

Ianto returned his focus to the scene as he would not let Jack beat him. Over the past weevil hunts, Jack and Ianto had developed a quite competitive game, each one trying to outnumber the other in weevil hits. Once Owen had provided them with stun guns, both men upped their game and simultaneously made the hunts a little more enjoyable. Weevils were still be dangerous, but once they started going on at least five hunts a day, the routine had caused them to lose focus. Especially now that the weevils seemed to organise more and more.

The last weevil standing caused them both some trouble, ducking in the most difficult hiding places. Soon enough, however, he ran from the scene once he noticed that his ‘friends’ had all bit the dust.

“I’ll ring Owen to clear out some space in the morgue,” Ianto sighed, already counting the bodies and coming to the conclusion he’d been afraid of the past few days.

“Is there still space?” Jack guessed Ianto’s exact thoughts.

“Not really, but we’ll have to make do.” Not for the first time this month, Ianto wondered whether weevils were able to reproduce. They never would have guessed that there were this many weevils in the city, or even in wide adjacency. The filled up cells and morgue drawers had proven them wrong though and they were still facing growing numbers of weevils every day.

While Owen was being a prick on the phone as usual, Ianto kept an eye on Jack who was loading the unconscious weevils into the trailer attached to the SUV. The captain had been distracted all day and each time Ianto looked at him, he noticed Jack averting his eyes immediately. Ianto was used to Jack ogling him, so he did not understand why Jack was suddenly acting secretively about it.

❖

The SUV screeched to a halt and Ianto opened his door, but Jack stopped him with a hand on his arm. Confused and still bursting from adrenaline, Ianto didn’t understand why Jack wanted to wait in the car when there was obviously a lot of work to do. And a lot of weevils who would not remain unconscious for that much longer.

“I wanted to talk to you, about the other night,” Jack spoke hesitantly.

“I don’t understand,” Ianto said, “what exactly happened yesterday that we should be talking about?”

“Not yesterday, I mean the night after I sent Mary into the sun.” Jack elaborated. “I never thanked you for what you said. I’m still not sure I deserved it, but I really needed to hear your support. It’s funny how you were the only one to forgive me. I think it’s really brave of you that you forgave all of us.”

Ianto’s heart clenched in grief, but also in anger. “I didn’t.”

“I’m sorry?” This time it was Jack’s turn to be confused.

“I didn’t forgive all of you,” Ianto added.

“Oh,” Jack looked sheepish, taken aback by Ianto’s confession. “I don’t understand. You’ve forgiven me, so why can’t you forgive the rest of the team? In the end, they were just following orders. My orders.”

Ianto frowned, irritated by Jack’s inability to understand what he was trying to say. “I’m not angry at them for shooting her,” he answered honestly, “I guess I should be grateful to some extent.”

“Maybe grateful might be stretching it a bit,” Jack frowned, clearly still stumped.

“When I saw what she did to Annie, I knew that I’d lost Lisa,” Ianto explained. “I knew it wasn’t her anymore. Before that, I still had hope. But I could not keep on deluding myself once she’d killed someone intentionally. I just couldn’t kill her.”

“You had your gun aimed at her when we came in.”

Ianto nodded, “Yes, but I couldn’t pull the trigger. She still sounded so sincere and the story she told… I couldn’t grasp how the … _thing_ in front of me was not her and still knew me so well. It knew me like only Lisa knew me. I loved her so much,” Ianto sobbed. “She asked me to tell her that it was going to be all right, but I couldn’t lie to her. Because I knew then that it would never be. I knew I had to end it, if not for me then I had to end her suffering.”

He looked up at Jack, ignoring the tears blurring his vision. “I don’t blame them or you for shooting her. I knew it was the only thing to do.”

“Then why are you still angry?”

“Who says I’m angry?” Ianto replied, stubbornly avoiding the question. He had only tried to rectify a situation that seemed wrong. He hadn’t meant to lay all cards on the table. This was not something Ianto was proud of.

“You just did,” Jack said, exasperated. Ianto couldn’t help but raise his voice in return.

“Well maybe I am. Can you really blame me?” Ianto snapped back.

“No,” Jack replied in equal temperament, “but I want to know why you still blame me?”

“Because I believed in you, Jack,” Ianto finally blurted.

Of course he didn’t understand. What else did he expect?

“Against my better judgement,” he sighed, “I actually believed in you. You had a reputation in London, you know. No just the flirting — though it was the most common gossip about you. Yvonne, she used to talk about you, filled with contempt like she spoke of no other. But I could tell it was all based on jealousy. She hated you because she admired you. I never understood that,” Ianto was glad to see the smug smile disappear from Jack’s face as soon as it appeared.

“But then I came here,” he continued, “And you were every bit the flirt they said you were. And every bit the bastard they said you were. But you were also…”

He looked for the right words, but had to continue quickly before Jack could interject some idiotic narcissistic nonsense. “You were so _much._ I often suspect you really are telling the truth in you ludicrous stories. You throw yourself at this job as if it’s the only thing that matters. As if it’s the only thing you have. You live and breathe Torchwood.”

Ianto noticed that Jack’s confusion had only grown.

“And even though you say you hired Gwen to change Torchwood,” he continued nevertheless, “to help people instead of just scavenging the tech, I don’t buy it. You did it long before you even caught a whiff off her. This Torchwood — _your Torchwood_ — it’s different from London. It always was.”

Now it was time for the real confession. The one thought Ianto had never been able to shake, no matter how senseless he thought it was.

“I thought… I had started to hope. Hope that you could help her. Hope that you would choose to help her.”

Ianto stopped, keeping the silence as long as to force Jack to look him in the eyes.

“But you didn’t,” Ianto accused. “You didn’t even try to listen to me. You looked at her and the only thing you saw, was a _thing_. A monster. I believed in you Jack. I believed you could fix her. That you could fix me. You didn’t just fail her. You failed me.”

At last, he could let himself fall into an embarrassing breakdown, sobbing all over Jack who had hesitantly put his arms around Ianto.

“Why do you need fixing?” Jack asked.

“I’m broken. Ever since the battle, I’ve been broken. I’ve been trying to keep the pieces together, but since she—” Ianto couldn’t finish the sentence. If he put it in words, if he said it out loud, it felt too real. “I just can’t.”

“Everyone is broken, Ianto.” It almost sounded like an accusation.

“You’re not though, are you?” Ianto retorted, because he just wanted to hurt Jack back.

“What?”

“The way you are, Jack, do you feel anything?” Or maybe, Ianto did mean it after all. The attitude, the actions. Christ, maybe he hadn’t deserved Ianto’s defence after sending Tosh’s girlfriend into the sun in front of her own bloody eyes. Hadn’t he learnt his lesson?

“Do you really think I don’t?” Jack asked incredulously.

No, of course not. Ianto had seen Jack care. “But you’re so … bloody … cocky!” he replied instead.

“Yeah,” Jack laughed, “and you wear a suit and don’t think I don’t know why? You don’t need a suit to make coffee, Ianto.”

“You never seemed to complain.”

Jack shook his head. “That does not mean I don’t notice what’s going on underneath.”

Ianto raised his eyebrow just as Jack laughed in apprehension of his own words. “For once, that was not what I meant. Ianto,” Jack added in a more serious tone, “I worry about you. You know you can talk to me, don’t you?”

“We talk all the time,” Ianto shrugged.

Jack shook his head, “Not like you just did. Not about the stuff you just told me. We’ve been talking for ages now and I had no idea. Clearly I still don’t know you.”

“I didn’t think you cared.”

Ianto could almost feel the hurt in Jack’s eyes.

“You really believe that, don’t you?”

He didn’t know what to answer to that question. He sure as hell couldn’t tell Jack what he really thought of him, so he just shrugged and walked away, leaving the question and a lot more unanswered in the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, we all want them to make up and play nice (and make out), don't we? But bear with me, we're getting there... almost!  
> Thank you for sticking with me on this story and for all the nice comments!


End file.
